


Water Under The Bridge

by MadamRed



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 65,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Y/n) Grey-Hart is an FBI special agent who was supposed to start her new job as an intern at the BAU when she loses her father. After the funeral, she moves into a new flat, goes back to work at the Bureau and begins a long, but exciting journey along with the members of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Will she be able to fit in with the team? Or will her inexperience get her into unnecessary troubles?</p><p>*Time-wise, this story begins in January; show-wise, it would be right after "Entropy" (S11E11). I'm disregarding everything that happens in the eleventh season after that episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stuck... at home

**Author's Note:**

> First time ever writing and posting fanfiction, so please, be kind. All comments and feedback are welcome as long as you are respectful! :)
> 
> I highly recommend listening to this [song](https://youtu.be/0GdqHJqeVy8) (and any other piece written by Yuki Kajiura, really) while reading this.

_“_ _Bruscamente la tarde se ha aclarado / Porque ya cae la lluvia minuciosa / Cae o cayó. La lluvia es una cosa / Que sin duda sucede en el pasado”._

– [Fragmento](http://www.poemas-del-alma.com/la-lluvia.htm) del poema _La lluvia_ , de Jorge Luis Borges

 

_“The afternoon has brightened up at last / For rain is falling, sudden and minute. / Falling or fallen. There is no dispute: / Rain is a thing that happens in the past.”_

 – [Extract](http://poemsintranslation.blogspot.com.au/2009/07/rain.html) from the poem _Rain_ , by Jorge Luis Borges 

* * *

   _Quantico_ (Friday)

     Some of the members of the BAU were standing near the map pinned to a board in the middle of the bullpen, waiting to see if Dr Spencer Reid could figure out the geographical profile of the latest UnSub who was breaking havoc “in their own backyard”, as Morgan had phrased it the day before. Hotch looked on with his never-wavering frown, already calling Jessica to ask her if she could stay with Jack a while longer. JJ was on the phone with Will letting him know about the latest development –or their lack thereof– and their impending need of a sitter for the weekend, considering it was a Friday, and the pace at which they were going was not great _at all_. Morgan was with Garcia in her lair, both desperately trying to find something –anything, really– that will help them with this case. In the meantime, Dr Lewis and Rossi were working with the police at the last crime scene, trying to gather as much information as possible before the black clouds that were looming over their heads decided to destroy the little evidence that _was_ there. Everyone looked –and indeed _was_ – exhausted... and it was only 10 am.

     This UnSub was attacking seemingly unrelated 50-year-old men in their own homes and he did not care whether their families were still there or not, or whether it was the crack of dawn or the middle of the afternoon. However scattered his killing seemed to be, this guy knew what he was doing: each victim had been found bound to a chair by expertly-tied knots made with generic rope that was available for purchase at any given store all around the country, and they were all killed execution-style with a single bullet, right in between their eyes. He left no witnesses and little to no evidence other than the bodies. No one saw or heard a thing: not a person, not a car, _nothing_.

     The BAU had been contacted on Thursday after the second killing and had decided they would take a look into it the next day, but that Friday morning greeted them with a very early phone call saying that there was another body... thus making it the third one in the short span of two weeks. The guy was escalating quickly and they only had the places where the bodies had been found and the victims’ families to help them figure something out.

     And, to add to Agent Hotcher’s never-ending list of reasons to frown about, the new intern that was to start that week had called him on Monday saying her father had passed away and that she was to accompany her mother back to their home town in England where her father had asked to be buried in the family vault. Hotch understood the severity of her situation and told her to take all the time she needed to settle everything down, but right now... he wished they had a fresh pair of eyes to help them. Really, no one knew they were lacking a new member, only Garcia did, as she had been the one to escort the new girl to his office, but he made her promise not to tell anyone –not even Morgan– so as not to divulge the reason why she couldn’t make it to work for the time being.

     Yet, Hotch’s problems didn’t end there. Apart from the director calling him several times a day to know if there were any developments on the case, the media was outside the building 24/7 to try and get any scoop on what the FBI was doing to catch “the Pro”, as they had labelled the UnSub. That morning, when they all got to the building at 6 am and heard the journalists asking them about “the Pro”, Rossi started muttering about what an “unoriginal name” it was under his breath all the while instead of helping out with the profile, until Hotch decided to send him and Dr Lewis to the crime scene to stop his whining. JJ had laughed for the first time since waking up when Hotch told her why he had done that, with a smirk plastered on his face: “even senior agents need to be told off and sent away sometimes”.

     In reality, the whole situation was already complicated enough with the public being in a constant state of sheer panic, but the media being present _everywhere_ they went was an unwanted bonus they needed to get rid of if their aim was to make any progress at all today before another person turned up dead. What they didn’t know was, as the two agents came back from the scene of the crime with gloomy expressions on their faces and as Dr Reid called everyone to look at the map, that the UnSub had already found his next two targets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a slow-paced story, so hang in there if you do enjoy it :) Next few chapters are much longer.
> 
> Do let me know if you happen to see any typos, a word that shouldn't be there, etc. I've checked plenty of times, but you never know.


	2. Findings

“ _I'm only happy when it rains. / You wanna hear about my new obsession? / I'm riding high upon a deep depression. / I'm only happy when it rains (Pour some misery down on me)._ ”

 – “Only Happy When It Rains”, by Garbage

* * *

     ‘Guys, I think I may have something,’ said Reid, while everyone gathered around the map. ‘This UnSub’s killing grounds seem to be big, right?’ he added while drawing a big circle in the map, encompassing all three of the victims’ houses, and then turned around to face his colleagues. ‘But in reality, all three neighbourhoods we know he’s killed in so far are fairly similar: they are all suburban areas, but the residents are mostly high-class. Over half of the houses in all three have security alarms, and about a third of that number also has cameras. All of the victims had both things installed due to robberies dating from years back, but they all hired different companies,’ he said and put one of his hands in his pocket and kept moving the other one around while talking. ‘The fact that we knew he had already managed to leave all of these areas without anyone hearing or seeing anything was impressive enough and showed his level of skill, but if we add the fact that his image was not caught by any of the cameras and he avoided being detected by the alarms, it leads me to believe that this UnSub is trained.’

     ‘I think I know what you’re suggesting, Reid,’ said Hotch and turned towards the tech analyst before continuing, ‘but in the meantime, it’d be worth it to try and see if there’s anything unusual about any of the employees from those security alarm and camera companies, or if there are any hints regarding someone who worked for all three, or any more that we don’t know of, at the time of the installations. Garcia, try and see if you can find anything about that.’

     ‘Yes, sir! Call me or come to me if you need anything else!’ she answered and went straight to her office as fast as her high heels were able to take her.

     ‘I think it’s safe to assume that this guy looks like he belongs in these places and must appear harmless,’ Derek added, once Garcia left.

     ‘And we should not disregard the possibility that the victims may have known him or at least thought of him as non‑threatening if they opened their homes to him willingly. I mean, there were no signs of forced entry in _any_ of the crime scenes,’ Lewis chipped in.

     ‘He’s probably average looking... You know, your regular John Doe that no one remembers,’ remarked Rossi.

     ‘True,’ replied Hotch as Reid wrote everything down on different pieces of paper and hung them on the board next to the map and the crime scene photos.

     ‘But wait, let’s go back. Spence, you said you thought he’s trained?’ asked JJ.

     ‘Yes.’

     ‘So, you’re implying that he still is or could’ve been part of the police force or maybe even the army?’ she continued, looking around at the group.

     ‘It’s a possibility that we can’t rule out just yet’ conceded Hotch, looking at their theories on the board. ‘Dave, Lewis, was there anything of significance in the new crime scene?’

     ‘Same ol’, same ol’. Nothing new under the sun or black clouds, for that matter,’ Rossi said, pointing at the dark sky outside the windows to try to lighten up the mood, but to no avail. He opened his little black notebook and started reading from it. ‘Clean kill like in the previous two crime scenes. Victim was tied to a chair outside the shed at the back of the house. Wife, Sally, was sleeping soundly in their room upstairs. She told the police that her husband, Jeremy, aged 53, never got up in the middle of the night unless he needed to go to the bathroom, much less to go to the shed. She recognised the chair he was tied to as being the one her husband used when working on one of his new crafting projects in said shed.’

     ‘When we asked her if there had been anything unusual about his behaviour lately, she answered that there hadn’t been anything weird. No new visitors or old acquaintances coming around the house either, and she would know because she only left the house with her husband to babysit their grandchildren while their son and his husband were out at work, or to do the shopping, which they also did together. We had Garcia take a look into their bank accounts, and everything checks out. So, nothing out of the ordinary in either of those departments,’ added Lewis.

     ‘And nothing that links them to the other victims in terms of routines, clubs, not even a florist’s or a grocery store,’ Rossi concluded, closing the notebook and tucking it in the inside pocket of his coat.

     ‘Okay. Now, we have to wait for the M.E. to tell us if there’s anything different about this kill, but let’s try to find _anything_ that might connect these people. They cannot have been victims of opportunity if we take into account all of the measures this UnSub has taken in order to avoid being detected. JJ and Lewis, the wife of the first victim is here and I would like you to interview her. Dave and I will go and talk to the second victim’s family. Morgan and Reid, you two work with the evidence we’ve got so far and help Garcia out to see if we can narrow down the search somehow. I’ll also have someone move all of this into the conference room so that the families don’t have to see it,’ Hotch said, instructing everyone on what they needed to do.

     They all nodded and went their separate ways around the building, hoping they’ll be back with a lead.

 

* * *

 _At Morgan’s office_ (10.15 am)

     ‘Mrs Smith? I’m Agent Jareau, this is Agent Lewis,’ JJ said in a soothing tone, and they both shook the crying woman’s hand. The agents took the two opposite seats in front of the couch where Mrs Smith was sitting on. ‘First of all, we are extremely sorry for your loss and we want you to know that we’re doing everything we can to find the person who did this. We really appreciate you coming down here to help us with the investigation. Could you tell us about that evening two weeks ago?’

     ‘Thank you. I’m sorry about all... this,’ she said gesturing to the new tears about to fall from her eyes. ‘I have already told everything to the police officers who first came to my house, but... Let’s see, Barry and I were planning on having some roasted chicken for dinner, so I went out to buy some things we were missing, while Barry stayed and started preparing the chicken. We always cooked together,’ she answered very quietly, her voice breaking towards the end.

     ‘Do you remember at what time you left the house or how long it took to run to the store?’ Lewis asked once Mrs Smith seemed to be able to speak again.

     ‘I left at 5.15 pm, I know because I told my husband so, joking that he was going to be doing the same thing once I came back. You see, he was a bit slow when it came to cooking, he liked taking his time,’ she smiled through her unshed tears, and the agents returned it, so as to encourage her to continue talking. ‘The store it’s just a couple of blocks away so, the whole trip only took me about 20 minutes. When I came back, I found my husband in the living room... t‑t‑tied to a... to a chair, a-and with a bullet through his head!’ she was crying wholeheartedly now. ‘The first thing I did was run to him to see if... even though I knew that I was too late, I just couldn’t not check, you know? A neighbour heard me screaming and took me away from my Barry, while his wife called the police. It was all a blur afterwards... I just keep wondering if he would still be with me, had we gone to the store together or...’

     ‘You have to understand,’ Lewis interrupted her in an attempt to calm her down, ‘that this is _not_ your fault, and, unfortunately, there’s nothing that you could have done differently to prevent this. Don’t blame yourself too much, okay?’ as she was sitting the closest, Lewis tried to reassure her by putting a hand on her arm, but Mrs Smith seemed unconvinced, which was understandable considering the circumstances.

     ‘Now, Mrs Smith, I would like you to go back a few days before it all happened. Was there anyone who came to see you or your husband that acted strange in any way? Someone who made you feel... uncomfortable, but you just couldn’t pinpoint why?’ JJ asked her.

     ‘No, not that I recall, no. Why? Do you think this person was following us?’

     ‘It’s a possibility. We can’t really rule out anything at this moment.’

     ‘So, if there was no one that seemed strange, were there any unexpected visits from people you two hadn’t seen in a while?’ Lewis continued with the questioning.

     ‘Umm, no, sorry.’

     ‘Any strange cars around the neighbourhood? Maybe a friendly face with a flat tyre looking for help, or someone asking to use your phone because his cell phone’s battery ran out?’ ventured JJ.

     ‘Now that you mention it... There was someone like that about three weeks ago,’ the two agents looked at each other briefly and then at Mrs Smith, silently asking her to continue. ‘Yes, there was a man; he must have been in his early forties. We were at the gas station near our house at night, just waiting for the tank to refill after visiting our daughter, and I saw this man talking to Barry. I didn’t hear the conversation itself because I was buying some stuff at the shop; it was late and we needed some snacks for our grandson who was asleep in the car and was staying with us for the weekend... By the time I left the store, the tank was full, and the man left. He seemed to be friendly towards Barry, but when he turned around, his expression... changed, but it was too dark for me to see, especially without my glasses. We got into the car and drove away. That’s when Barry told me that this stranger had approached him and asked him about our car. We have a 2008 Chevy Meriva. But Barry told me that he also talked to him about an older car, one that my husband happened to have about ten years ago, but he sold it shortly after.’

     ‘Do you remember which car it was, by any chance?’ JJ asked.

     ‘No, sorry. Back then, I didn’t know anything about cars. I still don’t, but Barry said that I should _at least_ remember which model we have now.’

     ‘It’s okay, we’ll look into it. Do you think you could describe what the man looked like to a sketch artist?’

     ‘No, I’m so sorry. As I said, it was dark and I didn’t have my glasses with me. I didn’t even see if he got into a car after he was done talking to my husband. What I _can_ tell you is that he was wearing a green baseball cap which hid half of his face. But then, he looked like any other average guy. He also had a green sweater on and a pair of faded blue jeans.’

     ‘Thank you, Mrs Smith. You have been extremely helpful.’ Lewis thanked her honestly, and then they both escorted her out of the building, so that the media wouldn’t harass her at the doors.

     Once they came back up, they immediately called Hotch to tell him, so that he and Rossi could use this new piece of information in their own interview, and went to see Garcia and the guys in her office to tell them about their lead.

 

* * *

 _Second victim’s neighbourhood_ (11 am)

     ‘Thanks JJ, keep digging and see if you can find something about the car and see if there are any cameras at the gas station that could have caught a glimpse of this guy,’ Hotch said, before hanging up. Both Hotch and Rossi had been listening to JJ and Lewis’ retelling of their interview with Mrs Smith on speakerphone, while on their way to the second victim’s house to talk to his son, Jason Fisher.

     It had started raining when they left the office, but it was really pelting down now. Hotch and Rossi parked the car in the driveway and ran towards the front door. The door opened before they even had a chance to knock and standing there was a distraught-looking young man, who introduced himself as Jason. He invited them in and offered them something to drink, which they politely declined because he didn’t look too well and they didn’t want to overstay their welcome.

     Once more, Jason beat them to it and started talking himself before they could ask him anything.

     ‘I’m sorry about the mess. I haven’t been allowed to touch anything even though the police have already left. They said they might need to come back to collect more evidence samples or something. I’ve been staying at my girlfriend’s apartment since this happened. Have you made any progress?’ he said in one go, without even stopping to take a breath in between.

     ‘We are currently trying to narrow down the search as much as we can. We would like you to tell us what happened the afternoon your father was attacked, but we would also like you to think back to some days before it happened. Did you see anyone you didn’t recognise around the house?’ asked Hotch.

     ‘That week was like any other really, I would get up early, go to work at the pharmacy, come back at around 4 pm, start working on dinner while my dad was playing cards in the living room. The day before it... happened, he told me no one had come to see him or called him, and started complaining about people forgetting their so-called “friends”, which was also normal for him to do these days,’ Jason answered. ‘However, there was someone a couple of weeks ago that came by my work, not the house. I immediately felt... I don’t know, weird, I guess? Anyway, he was wearing a red baseball cap, which I found weird for this kind of weather, you know? Why not wear something that will actually cover your ears if it’s still freezing outside?’ he started to rub his hands together unconsciously at the mention of the weather but continued on with his story. ‘I was the only cashier there at the moment, so he came up to me and I started ringing his stuff. He saw my car parked outside the pharmacy and just rambled on about how good a brand Chevy is. I politely nodded, but he went on and on, even after paying for everything.’

     ‘Did he ask you about any other cars you or your family had in the past?’ Rossi interrupted him.

     ‘Yeah, he did, actually. I told him the car was my dad’s and that I didn’t really know all that much about it, and then he asked me that. I told him my dad had always loved Chevy as well, but when he asked me about the models he had had, another customer came to the counter. He suddenly said goodbye, lowered his head and left the store. Then, a few weeks later, I came back home and I found my dad...,’ he was about to break down so, Hotch decided to intervene with as much tact as he could.

     ‘Do you think you could describe him to a sketch artist?’

     ‘Yeah, I think so. But there are security cameras at work, maybe we can find him in the footage.’

     ‘Lead the way. We’ll follow you there and just in case we don’t have any luck with the security cameras, we would still like you to come with us so that you can talk to a sketch artist.’

     Jason nodded, and they all silently left the house.

 

* * *

 _Quantico_ (1 pm)

     Rossi took Jason and the sketch artist to his office so they could work without all the hassle of the bullpen, while Hotch gathered everyone in the conference room to discuss the new information. Once Rossi joined them, Lewis started to speak:

     ‘I called Sally, the wife of our latest victim, to know if she had seen anyone with a baseball cap around the house and she confirmed that she saw someone who fits our description talking to her husband at the supermarket parking lot. She had left Jeremy’s side to go back in because they had forgotten to buy something, and when this man saw her walking their way, he hastily said goodbye and walked the opposite direction. When Sally asked Jeremy about it, he said the guy came out of nowhere to ask him about, you guessed it, their Chevy minivan.’

     ‘We have definitely found our connection,’ said Morgan. Garcia, who was standing next to him, decided to go next.

     ‘Sir, I don’t know if this is even relevant now, but there was no one suspicious in the records of any of the security companies that work the areas where the victims lived. All I found were a few employees who were fired from one of them for stealing from the houses they were sent to work in. Apparently, they would get everything ready and then, at night, after a few weeks, they would come back and rob the houses. They were caught red-handed and have been in jail ever since. Also, the cameras at the gas station you asked us to check have been down for weeks now.’

     ‘And the M.E. report on our latest victim is almost an exact copy of the previous two,’ added Reid.

     ‘What about the cars the victims used to own?’ Hotch asked Garcia.

     ‘Oh, that’s where I have good news. All of the victims only _ever_ owned Chevy cars. I didn’t know there was such a thing as an “allegiance” to a car company, but hey, who am I...’ she stopped mid-sentence once she realised she was rambling. ‘Sorry, moving on. There is another freaky coincidence here: _all_ of the victims owned the _very same car_ ten years ago, they even had it in the same colour. Two of them sold this car after some time, except for our last victim who actually got his car stolen while he was with his wife at the theatre two years ago. The famous car was a big kind of vehicle, like the different types the victims or their family members were driving at the time this guy approached them: the 2006 Chevrolet HHR, specifically in the colour white,’ she read all of this from the tablet in her left hand and showed them the picture of the car on the flat screen once she reached the end of her speech.

     ‘The HHR stands for _Heritage High Roof_. It is a retro-styled station wagon that was sold by Chevrolet from 2006 to May 2011. First year sales exceeded 93,000 through June 2006 and...,’ Reid started, but decided to cut his speech short this time when he saw his colleagues’ expressions.

     ‘As this is all extremely specific, it led us to believe that maybe this UnSub is looking for someone who was a part of or, most likely, caused an accident while driving this car and killed someone important to this guy,’ Morgan chipped in.

     ‘I’m compiling a list of people in the area, who have owned this car as we speak so that we can alert them and I’m also trying to find if there was in fact an accident like that,’ Garcia said in a hopeful tone.

     ‘Thank you, Garcia. Let me know when you have either. We’ll split into two teams. JJ, Morgan and Lewis go downstairs and tell the press we’re ready to deliver the profile and that we’ll have a sketch ready at some point this afternoon. Dave, Reid and I will deliver the profile here to the police,’ said Hotch, and everyone left the room, this time, with a determined look on all their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Reader comes into play!


	3. Papers and keys

“ _Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us._ ”

 – _The Taggerung_ , by Brian Jacques.

* * *

 _Airport_ (Friday, 8.30 am)

     ‘Fan- _freaking_ -tastic,’ you actually said out loud in the middle of the airport parking lot, drawing a few looks from the people around you. You had forgotten your car keys at the _embassy_! The British Embassy located in _Washington, DC_. _Great_. It was only a forty-minute flight, really, but... you couldn’t hop on a plane _just_ to get your stupid keys. Besides, all of the expenses were kindly being covered by said embassy, and flying under your current situation was already an ordeal in itself.

     You had flown all the way from DC back to Virginia because of a very important paper you and your mum had forgotten to grab in your haste to leave the house and get everything regarding your father’s... –ugh, it was still too fresh to even think about– funeral arrangements sorted. It was going to be taken care of by the embassy itself as your father, Mr Anthony Hart, had devoted the greatest part of his life to working for the British Embassy here in the US. He had even brought his four‑month pregnant wife with him –which is one of the reasons behind you being American but still having a very noticeable British accent. Hell, he had practically thrown a _tantrum_ after the doctor told him the best thing for him was to retire once the disease had truly taken a toll on his health, the disease he had almost refused to acknowledge... _Stubborn old man_ , you thought.

     ‘Let’s not dwell in the past now, there’s going to be _plenty_ of that at the funeral,’ you mumbled the last part, as you felt a couple of tears already threatening to spill from your eyes. You took a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself down and headed straight to the nearest car rental place.

 

* * *

     You had learnt how to drive while at university in England, so you were always a tad nervous when you had to drive in the US. Despite the anxiety, you made it to your parents’ house safe and sound. _Your parents’ house_... that’s how you had started calling it once you moved to the UK at 16 –you finished secondary school earlier than usual– to study psychological and behavioural sciences at Cambridge, where you had to live with your aunt and her family because you were still a minor. And you continued to call it that once you came back at age 19 and decided to go to Georgetown, because you were planning to do an M.A. on Linguistics there the following year –first you wanted to work and get used to living alone before diving into your studies again.

     You met someone there who had as much of an influence in your life as your parents did: Dr Alex Blake, FBI agent and member of the BAU; she was one of the professors at the university. She had been really interested in you after you mentioned what you had studied and she encouraged and helped you get ready for a job at the FBI. She had also been extremely supportive when you told her of your father’s disease and his refusal to get treated at first. And again when you called her crying at 7 am on the day he passed away in his hospital bed. She had even said she would try to get a few days off to be there for you at the funeral –she had quit her job and was now teaching at Harvard with her husband.

 _Wow_. It’s incredible how the human mind keeps going back to the same topic sometimes. You needed a distraction. So, once you arrived and punched in the alarm code, you looked for that elusive paper. The paper which turned out to be mockingly sitting on one of the kitchen counters, underneath one of _your_ case files. _I guess_ _I’ll have to properly apologise to mum when I come back_ , you thought, while pressing the call button on your cell to let your mum know you were at the house  –with the paper– and that you’ll hopefully be back in DC in the afternoon, provided the weather cleared up a bit.

     After you hung up, you took a shower, made yourself some coffee and decided to skip lunch altogether. Your stomach probably wouldn’t keep it down anyway. You had to wait until 4 pm for your flight back, so you went to the living room to enjoy your coffee with some mindless TV. You would have to remember to take a few books with you for the long flight to England, but not too many. You couldn’t really fit all that much in your go bag, the bag you had prepared for your new job as an intern at the BAU; again, a job you got thanks to the encouragement _and_ a second letter of recommendation from Dr Blake.

     Oh, you suddenly remembered the day of the interview. The moment you stepped into the building you knew so well, your nerves kicked in full gear. But the lovely and brightly‑dressed woman who saw you looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office had calmed you down somehow. She even wished you good luck before you knocked on his office door. Agent Hotcher had a very... stoic expression from beginning to end, and only gave you a small smile when he got up and shook your hand, welcoming you into his team. You were out of your mind with glee.

     The lovely woman from before, Penelope Garcia you learned then, actually _hugged_ you when Hotch –your new boss’s nickname, apparently– told her you were to start in two weeks' time. They both gave you their numbers –although, it was more like Penelope actually took your phone out of your hand and punched hers in herself– and they even offered to help you with anything you may need regarding your father’s situation. You had had to tell Agent Hotchner due to the fact that you _knew_ you would need some time off of your new job rather soon, unfortunately; however, Penelope heard when she came back into Hotch’s office with three big cups of coffee for an impromptu get-to-know-you session neither you nor Hotch had truly agreed to. He just shrugged his shoulders at you and went along with what Penelope said, and so you did as well, not wanting to seem rude.

     It was an odd first encounter with them, but pleasant nonetheless. You were still a little nervous about all of these new changes. You had already decided to move out of the house and go back to living in a flat by yourself, just like you had done during your time at Georgetown. Your parents had moved into this particular house so that your dad could get the appropriate treatment for his disease, and you had joined them in order to help them out; but, originally, the house, your parents had told you, was supposed to be a gift from them to you once you got married.

     Your father is –scratch that– _was_ a very modern but old-fashioned guy at the same time: he was old-fashioned in the sense that he had bought that house with the idea to remodel it and present it to you after you came back from your honeymoon with your still non‑existent husband –you had never even had a formal boyfriend; but, he was modern as well because he was actually the one who proposed you had your mum’s Beatrice hyphenated surname instead of only his own, thus making you (Y/n) Grey-Hart.

     He had also taught you how to shoot a gun at age thirteen when your teachers at the British International School of Washington said you were more than capable of skipping a few years and going straight to secondary school –all thanks to your mum’s tutoring in the afternoon. He had been worried about your well‑being, you know, surrounded by all of those “horny teens”, and teaching you that had at least put his mind at ease, even if you couldn’t walk into school with a gun. He never really had anything to worry about. You were a loner, and no one bat an eye in your direction during classes or in the hallways. You mostly kept to yourself, only opening up during choir hours. You loved singing with a passion, but you had never seen yourself pursuing it as an actual career.

 

* * *

     By now, you had been sitting in the couch for two hours, staring at the screen and sipping at your coffee absentmindedly. You only came back to reality at around 1.30 pm when you put your mug to your lips and found it empty. You were halfway through to the kitchen when you heard the special news report, saying special agents from the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit were about to give a very important message to the local community. You came back and turned the volume up and saw three of your future colleagues on TV.

     The knot in your stomach came back. _What if it’s me on TV like that one day?_ You shuddered at the thought. You were _so_ not ready for that kind of attention. After working as a secretary in a software company while in Georgetown and then spending over a year working behind the cameras in the surveillance division trying to take down a Mexican cartel had _not_ prepared you for this part of the job as a member of the BAU. After joining the FBI, you were immediately sent to help in that specific mission thanks to your fluency in Spanish, but you stayed there ever since, feeling comfortable sitting idly and only listening... except for that _one_ time you almost blew an entire operation out of impulsiveness. Your former Unit Chief had not been happy with you.

     You were brought back to reality again, but this time it was caused by the thunder roaring outside instead of the TV. The three agents were now sharing their profile with the community, insisting that everyone should keep their eyes open for a Caucasian man in his early forties, known to wear baseball caps of different colours, and who had single‑handedly attacked three large 50-year-old men in their own homes. As all of the victims were known to have driven the same car –a white, 2006 HHR Chevy– ten years ago, they were advising everyone who had _ever_ owned that car to be vigilant and to be extremely careful. This guy was apparently on some kind of mission to, they gathered, avenge someone dear to him who had died in a car accident, provoked by an individual driving that specific car, ten years ago. The general advice was _not_ to approach him alone and to call the police for help.

     That sounded... oddly familiar to you. The part about the car, at least. Your dad loved Chevrolet cars, and had owned some during his lifetime. You grabbed your phone, completely ignoring the agents on TV rattling off the numbers for civilians to call if they saw anything strange, and started pacing the room, impatiently waiting for your mum to answer. When she did, you asked her if she remembered your dad ever having a white Chevy, and she told you that he had in fact had one.

     ‘Mum, do you remember which model it was? Or in which year?’ you asked as you brought your fingers up to the bridge of your nose underneath your glasses and pinched it, trying to subdue the headache you felt forming.

     ‘No, dear, I don’t. But, why do you call me to ask me that all of a sudden?’ she asked you, suspicion obvious in her voice. _She might have seen the profile on TV as well_ , you thought.

     ‘I don’t know. When I rented the car at the airport, there was a white Chevy type of minivan that the guy offered me, and I couldn’t remember if dad had ever owned one. It was really just out of curiosity,’ you said the first lie that came to your mind. If your mum saw through it, she decided to let it slip for the time being.

     ‘Oh, I see, of course,’ her tone sounded slightly sarcastic, but it could have been your imagination. ‘If your curiosity was not satisfied by my lack of details, dear, there should be a black notebook the size of a diary in one of drawers of the desk in the library. Your father had it ever since we got married and he wrote quite a lot of things in there. Maybe you’ll be lucky and can find what you need. There should be a page titled “Cars” where he used to write the names of his favourite models, and then he would tick them if he ever saw them in the street and cross them out if he ever owned them.’

     ‘Really? I knew he did something similar with the countries he visited, but I didn’t know he was such a car person,’ you confessed and sat back down on the couch, feeling a little overwhelmed about not knowing something apparently so important to your father.

     ‘Oh, don’t feel guilty or bad about it, dear. You know your dad was a reserved kind of person,’ she tried to reassure you.

     ‘Yeah, I know. Anyway, thank you, mum. I’ll let you know if I’m able to board the plane later or not. Love you.’

     ‘And I love you, dear. _Be safe_.’

     She half whispered the last part, but you heard it and felt guilty for not telling her the truth. You went straight to the desk in the library, and found the diary with the page your mum had told you about. And there, in big black bold letters, was every car your dad ever dreamed of owning: from very old, retro cars to even some of the latest models, not even a month old. You had to make yourself swallow the bile you felt coming up; your empty stomach was definitely not handling this well.

     You left the library with the diary in your left hand and grabbed your phone again from where you had left it on the couch with your right. You were calling the only person that could help you right now. Thankfully, he answered almost immediately; no greetings, just his surname. _Straight to business, I suppose_. You were about to tell him your theory on who could be this UnSub’s next target, when the anchor on TV said there was a new victim, allegedly killed by “the Pro”, although the FBI had not made any comments yet.

     You finally managed to get the words out of your mouth, and Hotch said he would be there in half an hour with a few members of the team as a precaution –the others had been sent to the new crime scene–, in case this guy decided to go to your house in search of your dad. You realised you had started pacing the room the moment you heard the click signalling the end of the call, but you couldn’t help yourself. You bolted upstairs to get the gun you had brought with you in your go bag and came back down. Your mum had questioned you about it, but you had told her it was really just out of habit. _Boy_ , were you thankful you had it with you now.

     You checked the clock in the kitchen: fifteen minutes until your new boss arrived, and your heart was beating ridiculously fast. _Calm the bloody hell down, Grey-Hart_ , a voice said inside your head. But then, just as you were trying to get your breathing back to normal, the power was cut off at your house, and you heard someone moving around in your backyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! :)
> 
> A new chapter should be -hopefully- posted every week. I'm halfway through writing it -and the final three chapters are already written, so I know exactly where this is going. I *just* have to put it into words.


	4. Nobody

“ _Oh, how I wish / For soothing rain. / All I wish is to dream again. / My loving heart, / Lost in the dark. / For hope I'd give my everything._ ”

– “Nemo”, by Nightwish

* * *

     _Bloody hell_ , you inner voice said again. You were scared out of your mind. _Calm, steady breaths; you’re an FBI agent, damn it!_ You hadn’t bothered opening the blinds when you had arrived, except for the one in the bathroom upstairs –which you closed shortly after due to the rain–, so he couldn’t see where you were. _But you can’t see him either_ , your inner voice provided. _Not helpful_ , you answered back silently. You closed your eyes. This was _so_ not the time to be having this kind of conversation with yourself.

     When you opened your eyes again, your mind had cleared up a bit, so you decided to block the entrances with the heaviest pieces of furniture you were able to move on your own, while still trying to make as little noise as possible. _Even if he cut off the power, the alarm still works_ –it was connected to another power source hidden away in the basement, and the only entrance was from _within_ the house. That was a little trick you learnt from working in surveillance. You had also hid cameras inside and outside the house that were connected to the same power feed as the alarm; you only hoped that your laptop still had some battery left.

     After checking everything was locked and blocked downstairs, you went to the top floor again. Making sure you were a fair distance away from any windows, you called Hotch to let him know of what was going on. It had been five minutes since you had heard the UnSub lurking outside. _Ten more minutes until my backup arrives_.

     ‘Hotchner. Grey-Hart, you’re on speaker. I have agents Rossi and Reid with me. Are you okay?’

     ‘Great. Hello agents,’ damn your British upbringing and your need to be polite at all times. ‘Agent Hotchner... five minutes ago the power was cut off in my house, and I heard movement in the backyard. He’s definitely here. All of my blinds were already shut, so neither of us knows where the other is, and I made sure to block all entrances as best as I could. Both my alarm system and cameras are still functioning properly; I’m upstairs waiting for my laptop to turn on to see if I can find where he is,’ you said whispering. Your voice sounded a little panicky, but well, after all, this was your first _very real_ encounter with a murderer.

     ‘Grey-Hart, stay where you are and try not to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. We’re almost there. We’ll stay on the line with you.’

     ‘Understood.’

     ‘I’m sorry, Hotch, but who is she?’ another male voice asked. He must’ve been the one holding the phone because his voice sounded closer than Hotch’s.

     ‘She is one of the best agents from the surveillance division here in Quantico.’ You blushed a little at the praise.

     ‘(Y/n) Grey-Hart? I read her name in an FBI bulletin a couple of months back. She was part of the team that brought down a big Mexican cartel not too long ago,’ a third, more distant voice spoke. He was probably sitting at the back of the vehicle.

      You stayed silent while they talked about you.

     ‘We are parking a block away and going on foot the rest of the way so as not to compromise our position. Anything important about the house that we should know about?’ came Hotch’s voice through the phone after some time.

     ‘Not really. I have the cameras up, but I can’t find him anywhere. Sorry.’

     ‘It’s fine. Be careful and be at the ready. Stay away from the windows.’

     ‘Already done that, sir. I will be.’

     He ended the call and soon after you saw them approaching the house from the right in one of your camera feeds. You decided to move downstairs so as to be closer to them, should they need your help. You moved as fast as you could, still making sure you didn’t make any noise. You situated yourself under the desk in the middle of the library because it was the only area hidden from all of the windows. You heard movement but nothing was happening in the cameras. You got your gun ready, raised it and moved towards the front door.

 _Still nothing_ , you thought, and then people were shouting. You went back to your laptop and saw them all standing in your front yard. You moved the couch you had placed in front of the door to block it, and used their shouting match to your advantage and unlocked the door without the UnSub hearing you. You waited for him to start screaming again about his wife and five-year-old daughter, and how they were taken from him, how the case went cold and nobody did anything to find the son of a bitch that was still out there, not even his friends in the police station. Nobody helped him, and he was sent to therapy sessions due to his unstable psychological state. Instead of attending the sessions, he just quit the police and decided to take matters into his own hands.

     You started moving forwards, avoiding one of the floor boards in the porch you knew made a horrible creaking sound. The UnSub was still raging, and the agents were not getting through to him, so when he made a move to shoot the lanky guy standing at the back of the group, you made your presence known.

     ‘Drop the gun,’ you spoke in such a quiet voice, you were sure the guy had not heard you.

     ‘Is your father in there, young lady?’ the UnSub asked you without even turning around.

     ‘He’s dead, thank you very much. But in case you wanted to know, he _wasn’t_ the guy who killed your family.’

     ‘He died, huh? Too bad I couldn’t get my hands on him.’

     ‘I said: drop the gun,’ you said through gritted teeth this time.

     He obeyed you, and Hotch handcuffed him. You didn’t holster your gun until the ambulance and the police cars arrived about a minute later, and he was put in the back seat of one. The three agents approached you as you sat down in the front steps of your house, not caring that you were getting soaked to the skin.

     ‘Are you okay, Grey-Hart?’ Hotch asked you. _Did he sound concerned?_ His face was unreadable.

     ‘Yeah, just a little shaken, sir. That was my first _real_ encounter with danger as an FBI agent.’

     ‘I guess spying on a Mexican cartel just wasn’t thrilling enough for you,’ the other senior agent spoke, sounding amused.

     ‘I guess not,’ you said through a small smile. You got up an introduced yourself to them. ‘Special Agent (Y/n) Grey-Hart.’

    ‘SSA David Rossi,’ the senior agent introduced himself as he firmly shook your hand. ‘You apparently already know Agent Hotcher, and the guy you saved earlier is Dr Spencer Reid, he doesn’t shake hands,’ he pointed at him with his thumb and whispered the last part, even though he knew everyone could hear him.

      ‘Oh, I see. Nice to meet you both,’ you waved at Dr Reid and he waved back, though his was a little awkward.

     ‘Grey-Hart, I’m gonna have to ask you to accompany us back to Headquarters so that we can get your formal statement,’ Hotch said, now with what you guessed was a pained expression on his face. He didn’t know why you were there at that moment in time, but he knew you were supposed to be boarding a plane to England soon enough.

      ‘Of course. I’ll get my stuff and follow you in my car, sir,’ you would have to reschedule that flight after all...

 

* * *

 _Quantico_ (Friday, afternoon)

     The moment you got into your car, you turned on the radio to distract you from your thoughts. When you arrived at HQ, you were immediately sent to give your statement. Afterwards, you called your mum to let her know you were okay and then you called the airline to see about rescheduling your flight –you would have to wait until 10 am the next day to leave. But now? You had nothing to distract yourself with.

     Hotch had kindly allowed you to stay in his office while they were interrogating the UnSub, and you were, basically, stressing out. The day had been emotionally draining, and you didn’t even know where you were going to spend the night. _Probably at a hotel... I’m NOT going back there_.

     Garcia had come to check on you twice, and brought you a cup of tea each time. It was nice of her, but that just made the rest of the team distrust you a bit. It was understandable: you came out of nowhere, and both Hotch and Garcia seemed to be friendly towards you _and_ protective of you. Yet, it was unsettling to see; this wasn’t the grand first impression you had hoped to make. At least Dr Reid and Rossi were a bit kinder towards you since you had helped out in the field. However, their eyes... they held another emotion that had been missing before you all got into the cars to get back to HQ. _Maybe Hotch told them and now they also pity me, like he and Garcia seem to do_.

     When five o’clock rolled around, you decided to leave Hotch’s office and started wandering around, trying to find Garcia’s “lair”, as she had called it. You wanted to see if you could at least help her and the team by going out to get them something to eat. _They all probably were too busy to even have lunch_. You finally found her, and her office was definitely... _hers_. There were splashes of colour everywhere you looked: pens, figurines, hanging lights, and a lot of monitors. Dr Reid was there with her, he was telling her something you were unable to hear from your spot at the door, but you saw the speed at which she started typing again.

     You knocked on the open door, not really wanting to just burst in unannounced. They both turned, and Garcia invited you to take a seat next to her with her hand. Dr Reid just waved at you again in his awkward way, and you smiled at him, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

     ‘So,’ you dragged the word after sitting down, ‘how’s the interrogation going, Dr Reid?

     ‘Not too great, actually,’ _he sounds worried_ , you noticed.

     ‘How so?’

     ‘He is not talking. He hasn’t even asked for a lawyer yet.’

     ‘Really? It’s been three hours. You’d figure he would want the attention to be on his family’s case after everything he’s done.’

     He looked at you with a surprised expression.

    ‘We thought so too, but...’ he stopped, not sure if he should share whatever piece of information he had with you and looked at Garcia, who had stopped typing and was looking back at Reid with a similar expression.

      ‘I’ll go get Hotch,’ she said, after Reid nodded at her.

     Oh, the silence that followed was excruciatingly painful. You couldn’t stand it, especially if you added Dr Reid’s constant staring. You pretended not to notice and looked at all of the wonderful distractions that decorated Garcia’s desk, but it was starting to get unbearable. You were about to say something when Garcia came back with Hotch and a blonde woman –who you recognised from the news– behind her. He looked at you and then at Garcia, who asked you to look at the computer.

     You tried to decipher what was going on, but their faces gave nothing away. You turned your attention to the screen, and there you saw the interrogation room, where a black woman was sitting in front of the UnSub and a dark–skinned man was pacing the room –you had also seen them on TV earlier. The UnSub laughed then and said in a sing-song voice:

     ‘I’ve told you: get her in here and I’ll tell _her_ everything.’

     ‘Why?! What could you possibly say to her that you can’t tell us?’ the man had stopped pacing and put both hands on top of the table, looking at the UnSub straight in the eye.

     ‘Because, _fed_ , that’s none of your business.’

     The two agents on the screen got up and left the room, and the UnSub just kept smiling. You looked at Hotch.

     ‘Who is that “her” they mentioned?’

     ‘You,’ that one word made your blood run cold. ‘We refused to give in, but I think we won’t be able to hold him for much longer. He could ask for a lawyer at any time, and the fact is we can only arrest him for threatening three Federal Agents with a gun so far. We have no physical evidence to send him to jail for the murders. We already searched his house and there’s nothing. He didn’t even have any rope with him when we got him. And the gun he had does not match the one used in the four murders we know he’s committed.’

     ‘So, the moment he asks for a lawyer, he’s basically a free man,’ it was a statement, not a question.

     ‘Exactly,’ said Hotch. He looked extremely worried.

     ‘Okay,’ you told him before you had time to think about it. ‘What do you need me to do?’

     Your question seemed to lift some weight off of Hotch’s shoulders.

     ‘We’ll have you lead the interrogation,’ he was already walking away. Then, he added from the hallway, cell phone already in hand: ‘JJ, take her there now. I have to go talk to the director.’

     ‘Sure,’ the blonde woman said as you started making your way towards the back of the building. ‘I’m Agent Jareau, by the way. Everyone just calls me JJ.’

     ‘Nice to meet you, JJ. My name’s (Y/n) Grey-Hart, but I guess you already know that.’

    ‘Yes, we were all shocked when the UnSub asked for you specifically. Agents Lewis and Morgan will brief you on how to go about the interrogation. Someone will probably go in there with you so, don’t worry.’

      You just nodded, not really trusting your voice at the moment.

  

* * *

     You went in alone. They said it was for the best, since he had been asking for you for quite some time now. Your stomach made a flip when you saw him smiling at you. But you were not going to let him get to you; you were a trained FBI agent with a degree on psychological and behavioural sciences. _You’ve got this_ , your inner voice said.

    Once you sat down, you started displaying the pictures of all four victims in front of him and then you interlocked your fingers on top of the table so that your hands wouldn’t betray your, _so far_ , cool demeanour. He just kept smiling at you, with a clear air of superiority at having you there alone.

     ‘So, Mr Steele, would you like to tell me why you decided to murder these four gentlemen in such a way?’

     ‘Please, you can call me Harvey, agent Grey-Hart.’

     ‘Mr Steele, please don’t get distracted and answer my question.’

     ‘Why should I? You have no evidence against me.’

     ‘Actually, we _do_. We found traces of gun residue in your hands when you were arrested, even though you didn’t fire the gun you had with you. Coincidentally, Mr Walsh, our fourth victim, turned up dead an hour before you showed up at my house. Could you explain that to me?’

     ‘I... I was just firing shots in my backyard; I live just outside of town, in a house in this... deserted road.’

     ‘That _would_ explain the gun residue. Are there any witnesses who can verify your story?’

     ‘N-no, like I said, only I live down that road.’

     ‘Convenient. Do you have nothing to say as to why you showed up at my house and decided to cut the power?’

     ‘That... now, that’s a misunderstanding, agent,’ he laughed a little while he said it.

     ‘How so?’ you noticed how he had started to sweat, and how his eyes kept going to the left instead of the right, a clear sign he was making things up. _He truly didn’t think they were going to ask me to do this so, he wasn’t prepared_.

     ‘I... I... um’ he was cornered. He had nowhere to go. You were about to interrupt his stuttering when Rossi came into the room. He slipped a folded piece of paper towards you and then he sat next to you, looking straight at Mr Steele. You opened the paper and it said: “ _Try to break him. Pretend this is the puzzle piece you were missing_ ”. You followed the order and decided to address him again, this time a little colder than before.

     ‘Please, Mr Steele, go on. Tell me why you showed up at my house.’

     ‘I needed to see your father,’ he said in a low voice.

     ‘Why?’ you shrugged your shoulders.

     ‘I needed to know if he had been the one who murdered my family!’ he shouted.

     ‘Calm down, Mr Steele. And why did you think he was the person who “murdered” your family?’ the air quotes would hopefully get him more riled up. He looked at you in shock.

     ‘You don’t believe me. You are just like the others. Everyone thinks I made up the story but it’s true! It’s true!’

     ‘What story are you referring to? The one you fabricated about your wife being stalked and then murdered by, _presumably_ , the guy stalking her? Please! If it had been like that, why didn’t he kill _you_ to get you out of the picture? Or why did he crash your wife’s car while your daughter was with her? It doesn’t make any sense!’

     ‘Don’t let his stupidity get to you, Grey-Hart. Come on, he’s a _nobody_ that’s just trying to get our attention. That’s why he tried to attack us; that’s why he murdered all of those people. Let’s get outta here. We have other _scumbags_ that are actually worth our time,’ it was now Rossi’s turn to play his part. You followed his lead and started gathering the pictures when the UnSub began yelling again.

     ‘NO! Please, you have to help me! You’re my last chance to get the bastard that killed my family! PLEASE!’

     Rossi looked at the UnSub once more and left the room without saying another word. You, however, stayed.

     ‘Mr Steele, if you want us to help you find the guy who killed your family, you’ll have to first tell us the truth about your wife’s accident ten years ago, because I’m not buying this rubbish about a stalker... and nor will the jury the day of your trial.’

     ‘But it’s true! That’s what she said to me before taking the car that day! She told me there was this guy following her and... and...,’ he was on the verge of tears.

     ‘And? Mr Steele, you’ll have to-’

     ‘And two hours later I get a call from one of the detectives at the police station saying my wife had been in a car accident and that there were no survivors. The other car was nowhere to be found but a camera had caught a glimpse, not enough to get a plate number but at least it was enough to know the model. That’s how I knew which car to look for. It also showed a white male at the wheel; I narrowed down my search from there.’

     ‘Had your wife ever mentioned this stalker before? Or was that day the first time she told you?’

     ‘First time. She told me she didn’t want me to worry about her, that I had enough stress from work.’

     You waited a full minute before you spoke again.

     ‘Alright. I’ll make you a deal: if you confess about all four murders, we’ll let the jury know you cooperated with us willingly, and I’ll personally look into your wife’s case and see if I can find the guy you speak of.’

     After weighing his options, he nodded at you and you gave him a notebook and a pen for him to write his confession down. You stayed with him during the entire time, and only got up when another agent came to take him away. When you exited the room, you were met with a smiling Rossi.

     ‘Well done, kiddo. You got him to talk.’

     ‘Thank you, but I don’t think it was that impressive; he had asked for me so, I guess it was just a matter of time until he confessed.’

     ‘Not necessarily,’ said Hotch from behind you, startling you a little. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Also, I have to ask you for another favour.’

     You would recognise that manila folder anywhere: _paperwork_. You took it from him without saying a word and he thanked you. You would ask him later how you were supposed to fill out some of the information about you and your current position at the Bureau as you, if the transfer had been made official, were already a part of the BAU. _Later, after a hot bath_.

     All three of you made it back into the bullpen, where the rest of the team had similar folders to yours and seemed to be ready to do the same: procrastinate. Garcia was the first to spot you and congratulated you on your successful interrogation.

     ‘Thank you, I guess. Again, it wasn’t that big of a deal,’ you tried to downplay it.

     ‘Oh, come on!’ she smiled at you and hit you playfully in the arm.

     ‘Are you going back to your house?’ Rossi asked you.

     ‘No,’ you shook your head. ‘I’d rather stay away from it, for today at least.’

     ‘But where are you going to stay?’ Garcia asked you concerned.

     ‘At a hotel, probably.’

     ‘Oh, no, not under my watch! You shouldn’t be alone after such a horrible day. No. You’re coming to my house.’

     ‘What?!’ you looked at her with big eyes. ‘No! I couldn’t possibly do that to you! I mean, you don’t even know me that well, Garcia.’

     ‘Oh, shush. I won’t take no for an answer. Do you have a car?’ you nodded. ‘Great, my chocolate thunder brought me here today so we’ll take your car. Yay! Girls’ night! Let me get my stuff and we’ll go.’

     And just like that, she was gone before you could stop her. You just stood there, with a hand slightly raised. You had tried to grab her wrist, but she was really fast despite her heels. Hotch just smiled at you and shrugged his shoulders, like he had done the day of your interview. _Oh well, it’s better than being all alone_ , you guessed. Besides, Garcia was just trying to be supportive and she seemed to genuinely care about you, even though you were still complete strangers. The rest just seemed to think this was typical Garcia behaviour and didn’t question it.

     She came back, and the entire team, plus you, went down in two different lifts and said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Once in your car, there was never a dull moment thanks to Garcia’s bubbly personality. You smiled at her and hummed in agreement when you saw fit, and she just kept going non-stop. It was going to be a long but interesting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the hits, kudos and bookmarks! It's amazing to see so many people interested in my story. I hope you all stick around :)
> 
> Feedback and comments are welcome!


	5. Getting settled

_“While intent is the seed of manifestation, action is the water that nourishes the seed.”_

 – _Life, the Truth, and Being Free_ , by Steve Maraboli

* * *

 _At your parents’ house_ (Friday, 11 am)

     You were back from England. It was a Friday, which meant that it was officially a week since the incident, as you had started calling it. Dr Blake, true to her word, had made some time to attend your father’s funeral. The service had been quiet, for which you were thankful. Your mother decided to stay with her younger sister, your aunt Victoria, with whom you had lived during your time at Cambridge. She was going to stay there for a month, needing the support of her family and knowing full well that you needed some time to grieve on your own, and then she was going to fly back to the US to help you clean up the house.

     She was still unsure about living in the US by herself or whether she should just move back to England permanently. If she decided on the former, she would have you. But you told her that this job was going to keep you away from her like your previous one had. However, she argued that if she decided on the latter, she would lose the possibility of seeing you completely. You told her she should take that first month as a trial test and see how she felt. Once she came back, she could do the same in the US and compare the two experiences. She agreed with you, despite her reservations on the matter, and you flew back with Dr Blake.

     You would have to buy your former professor something to thank her for everything she had done and continued to do for you. She said you were crazy for thinking like that when you told her so on the way to your house; she just turned the radio up to get you to shut up. The same thing had happened at the airport earlier when you told her that you needed to get the rest of your clothes from your house. She just took your keys from your hand and blatantly ignored your protests about her needing to get to her own home. Yet, you couldn’t blame her, as you would have done the same thing had the situation been reversed. She could be as stubborn as you, which was probably why you two had such a good relationship: you were scarily similar.

     You got all of your essentials from your house: clothes, shoes, laptop, forgotten files and your favourite books, among some other things. You had three suitcases and four boxes waiting to be loaded in the car when you finally finished collecting everything.

     ‘Should we get some lunch? It’s already 1 pm,’ Dr Blake pointed out.

     ‘Yes, I’m starving. That plane food did nothing for my hunger.’

     ‘Let’s go then,’ she said with a knowing smile.

     You left the house and went to the nearest pizza place on foot since it was just a couple of blocks away. Having spoken so much during your trip, neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with unnecessary small talk. There was nothing that hadn’t been said at this point, and the silence between you two never felt uncomfortable. Once you sat down and ordered your food though, Dr Blake decided to ask you something that had been bothering her for a while:

     ‘So, I didn’t want to pry earlier but, since you haven’t told me, where are you going to be staying from now on?’

     ‘Right. Remember that there was a period of two weeks between getting my new job at the BAU and the run–in with Harvey Steele?’ she nodded. ‘Well, the day of the interview I also met Penelope Garcia, and she gave me her number after hearing about my dad, you know, for support. And we just started texting, which then led to speaking on the phone about pretty much anything, really. It was a way for the both of us to get some form of distraction at the end of the day. Once, she had been stressed out about Morgan almost getting hurt during a case, and I was stressed out about my dad, and in a moment of carelessness I let it slip that I was also looking for a flat. Next day, she asks me for my email address and sends me an amazing deal: there was a flat being sold not too far from HQ and for a reasonable price. I went to see it, made an offer and, two days later, I was walking out of the real estate agency with the keys to said flat and the contract I had just signed.’

     ‘Wow, congratulations then! And yes, that _does_ sound like something Garcia would do,’ you both laughed at that, but your conversation about the tech analyst’s crazy antics was interrupted by the waitress bringing you your food.

     Once you got back to the house, you put your things in the trunk of your car, and Dr Blake told you she still had some time before her flight if you needed any help getting everything into your new flat. Again, your protests were ignored, and she just turned the radio up again after settling on the passenger seat of your Volvo.

 

* * *

  _At the block of flats_ (3 pm)

     ‘ _This_ is where you’re going to live now?’ she said in a tone you couldn’t recognise.

     ‘Um, yes? Why? Is it a bad place? All the reviews I read were fairly good...,’ you started regretting your spontaneous decision.

     ‘No, no. It’s nothing like that. I was just... surprised at how close you’ll be to work,’ she was definitely lying, but you couldn’t understand why she would need to.

     What you didn’t know was that while you went up with your first suitcase, Dr Blake, instead of unloading the rest of your luggage, was actually asking Garcia some things via text message. When you came back down for the second suitcase, she was looking at her phone and smiling from ear to ear. You gave her yet another questioning look when she started laughing in front of your door. You didn’t understand what was so funny about it; it just had the number of the flat on it: 24. She calmed down and just continued to help you without saying another word. _Maybe she’s sleep–deprived_.

     You went down with her, thanked her once more and hugged her goodbye, with the promise of visiting her whenever you had some free time. She hugged you back, swore she would call you when she landed and got into the cab that would take her back to the airport.

     You sighed then. You were all alone now. Truly and utterly so. You still had a whole week off, since you had accumulated quite a few sick days during your time in surveillance, but you needed to use that time wisely to buy paint and fix a number of things at your new place, and buy furniture to actually be able to live there. You had grabbed your purse when you walked Dr Blake out so, you decided to get into your car once more and start on that furniture hunting before everything closed for the day. And you also needed to buy food. You would use Saturday to buy paint, and hopefully start on that the very same day. You also made a mental note to call a plumber first thing on Monday to see if everything was working fine.

     When you finally made it back, you had two bedside tables and a shelving unit in the car, along with plates, glasses, mugs, kitchen utensils, pans and pots. The rest of the furniture you had bought was to be delivered during the week, which meant you had no dining table to sit and have a proper meal at, nor a couch or a bed to sleep on. Good thing you had packed your sleeping bag and exercise mat to make an improvised bed.

     You had also stopped by at a supermarket on your way back, so it took you about five trips up and down the stairs to finally get everything inside the flat. You were sure going to lose that weight around your middle –which you had gained due to snacking during surveillance hours– because this place didn’t have a lift. You were exhausted and had nowhere to collapse onto.

 _Being a responsible adult sucks_.

 

* * *

  _At your flat_ (Wednesday, 6 am)

     You woke up startled by a noise and someone mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out; you assumed it was your next door neighbour who either just got in or just woke up, but you really didn’t care enough to go and check.

     It had been a couple of stressful first few days for you. The previous Saturday, you had started painting the bedroom, and continued on with the kitchen and living room on Sunday. Monday brought you an unexpected surprise –and money loss– when the plumber said he needed to change about half of the pipes in your bathroom or there would be a leak and the flat below yours would suffer the consequences. So, now, you were missing about half of the wall in your bathroom, but at least you could still use everything in there and shower. The guy needed to come at around 2 pm that day to finally finish the job.

     But the worst part was that your bed and couch hadn’t been delivered yet, so you were basically sleeping on your exercise mat with your sleeping bag as your only source of warmth, besides having the AC up to a ridiculous temperature. You had refused to use your new and pristine duvet while you were sleeping on the floor. _Nope_. It had cost _quite_ a bit to get it all dirty like that.

 _Ugh, money_. You were thankful to the previous owner for leaving her fridge, washing machine and dryer behind. They were kind of old, but they would have to do until you got enough money again. You had blown all of your savings in this _one_ purchase. Your car, clothes, shoes... everything had been given to you by your parents, including your college tuition –for both Cambridge _and_ Georgetown. That had allowed you to save as much as you could, even though you had paid your own rent back in Georgetown and had helped with the expenses during the last years you spent living with your mum and dad in Virginia. You still had to borrow some money from your parents to buy this place but, you had made your mum agree that you would give it back to her in instalments.

     You were wide awake now so, you decided to get up. You finished painting the living room and built the shelving unit you had bought in order to entertain yourself until the plumber came around. You were about to bite into your sandwich while sitting at your brand new dining table –which had been delivered on time– when he showed up. _Dang, lunch will have to wait_. _It would just be rude to eat in front of the guy_. And you didn’t have enough ham and cheese left to make him one. You would have to run to the store later.

     He finished the job and told you not to paint the bathroom until everything dried up. You paid and thanked him, and you finally devoured the sandwich you had put in the fridge earlier. You then decided to restock and when you came back from the store, it was already 7 pm. Since you didn’t own a TV yet, you decided to pop a DVD in your laptop and enjoyed a plate of spaghetti with one of your favourite movies.

 

* * *

     Your bed and couch were here! They finally brought them at 8 am on Friday. It had been troublesome for the poor delivery guys to get them to your floor, but you tipped them generously for their effort.

     The bed looked _gorgeous_ in your bedroom. In reality, it had been out of your initial budget, but you decided then that you could wait to buy a TV you would hardly use so that you could sleep better at night. _Best decision ever_. Once you made the bed with your new sheets and duvet, you threw yourself on top of it, like the _mature_ adult you were. After lying there for a while and almost falling asleep, you got up and went about cleaning the living room so that it didn’t look like a camping site anymore.

     The place looked good now that it had more things in it that weren’t in boxes and suitcases: all of your clothes and shoes were in the wall closet in the bedroom; the few books and pictures you had brought with you only occupied two of the shelves in the unit, which was now next to one of the windows on the right side of the flat; the dining table was in between the kitchen area and the living room, and finally your couch was now facing a painting your aunt had given you one Christmas –and which would hopefully be replaced by a TV in a couple of months– and had a small coffee table in front of it, with a few candles and decorations you had brought from your old room at the house.

     It looked kind of bare at the moment, and you still had a long way to go in making it your own, but it was definitely starting to feel like home to you. You smiled a little at the empty flat and snapped a few photos to send to your family.

     The next few days were spent reading, getting up to date with a few TV series you indulged in watching whenever you had the time, and doing laundry. _Exciting, innit?_ When you actually bothered to check the date on your computer you were surprised to see that it was Sunday already. Your weekend had vanished before your eyes and the next day was going to be your first official day as an intern at the BAU. _Boy, oh, boy_. You showered and went to sleep early, willing the butterflies in your stomach to calm down so that you could get a couple of hours of rest.

     All in all, you were quite happy with how your first week back in the US turned out and you couldn’t wait to see everyone’s faces the next day. You hadn’t even spoken to Garcia because you wanted to surprise her as well –only Hotch knew you were back. You only hoped they’d be patient with you, or at least tolerate you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a transitional chapter, but it was necessary. I know it's rather short, but the next ones are not.
> 
> Feedback is, as always, welcome! Let me know if you like the story so far :D


	6. First week

_“To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.”_

– William Shakespeare

* * *

_At your flat_ (Monday, 6 am)

      _What’s that sound? Oh God, the alarm_. Where did you put your phone? Right, on the dresser that is at the other end of your room. _But the bed is so comfy_... Why would you set your alarm so early anyway? It finally hit you when you got up and went to turn it off with your eyes still closed: _first day back at work_.

     After that little “epiphany”, you went about your morning routine quietly, since you didn’t want to wake your neighbour, whom you hadn’t even met yet, up at 6 am. Should you go and knock on this stranger’s door at some point? Should you give them a little present like the Japanese do when they first move into a new flat? Probably not. This person will think you’re absolutely mental if you did that. You could explain it to them, but that would not help you appear _any_ saner. Besides, people don’t go around spewing random facts like that, right? _Right_.

     It took you fifteen minutes to decide on an [outfit](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/142967799996/wutb-outfit-chapter-6). _Good thing I got up early_. You were supposed to come in at 8.30 to give your previous unit chief some files you had and give Hotch your first case file as part of the BAU. You hadn’t realised it that day, but he had put your new badge inside the manila folder when he handed it to you. _Clever_ , you had thought with a small smile on the plane to DC the next day. You wouldn’t have been able to get into the building with your old one, and that also helped you filled in your paperwork information without having to call him all the way from England to know if your transfer had been made official or not. With this, you were a part –granted, a small one, but still a part– of his team.

     Since you had decided not to take the coffee maker from your parents’ house, and you had no money to buy one for yourself, you left your flat at 7.15 am to get your _very much needed_ morning fix of caffeine. You had spotted a quaint little coffee shop in your many a trip to different stores during the previous week, so you got into your car and headed straight there, even though it was just a few blocks from your flat.

     The scent of coffee made it all the way out to the street, and it was borderline intoxicating when you walked in. You were in your own personal coffee haven. You asked for your usual drink and waited for your order to be ready. You were checking your phone and purposefully ignoring Garcia’s texts about when you were coming back, when the barista called your name.

     ‘Grey-Hart?’ a male voice came from behind you.

    ‘Yes?’ you said unsure, turning around with your coffee in hand. When you saw him, you recognised him immediately. ‘Dr Reid, good morning. Fancy seeing you here,’ you continued with a smile.

     ‘Likewise. Thought you’d be at your... parents’ house,’ he paused, somewhat awkwardly. You guessed he didn’t want to address your father’s death first thing in the morning.

     ‘Oh, well, I moved the moment I came back a week ago. I live a couple of blocks from here now,’ you replied, looking down at your coffee.

     ‘I see. Are you going back to work today?’

     ‘Yes, I am. I’m actually happy to be back,’ you smiled again, looking at him instead of the cup in your hand.

     He then ordered his own coffee to go, and you honestly didn’t know whether you should take a seat, or wait for him to sit together, or just say goodbye and _run_ for the door. Thankfully, he made the decision for you, and motioned for you to sit while the barista finished his drink. Once he got it and sat down, the silence became awkward again.

     ‘So, Dr Reid-’

     ‘Please, you can call me Spencer, or just Reid. The title makes my name sound too formal,’ he interrupted you.

     ‘Alright. Um, I guess I’ll stick to calling you Reid, then. If you don’t mind my asking, you’re a doctor of what exactly?’

     ‘I don’t mind, it’s a common question. I have three doctorates, actually: Maths, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have three Bachelor’s degrees on Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.’

     ‘Oh, dear! That makes my Master’s look so poor in comparison,’ you said jokingly. He must’ve not caught on your tone because his response was rather unexpected.

     ‘No, no. Don’t think less of your degree by comparing it to mine, or anyone else’s, for that matter,’ he was frowning as he said it.

     ‘Reid, I was making a joke, love. It’s okay, I’m proud of both of my degrees!’ you said, the corners of your mouth turning up involuntarily. You didn’t even realise you had dropped a very common term of endearment to you –you called everyone you felt close to “love”– in the middle of your _first_ full conversation with him.

     He was debating whether to say something about that –his mouth seemed to be trying to suppress a smile– but then looked down at his watch. He moved his apologetic eyes up to yours before speaking:

     ‘I’m sorry to cut this meeting short, Grey‑Hart, but I need to go catch the subway or I’ll be late.’

     He got up and fixed his messenger bag, ready to leave. You looked up at him, confused:

     ‘You’re going to work, Reid,’ he nodded, but his eyes were fixed on his coffee on top of the table. ‘Want a ride?’

     He looked at you, now holding his half empty cup in his right hand and the strap of his messenger bag with his left hand a little too tightly.

     ‘It’s okay; I always take the subway. I don’t wanna bother you.’

     ‘Please, you’re not bothering me in the slightest. I mean, we’re heading in the same direction; it would be inconsiderate on my part not to offer. You don’t have to of course, especially if it makes you uncomfortable,’ you tried to make the offer seem unimportant.

     ‘Are you sure?’

     ‘Yeah. Let this be my little thank you for showing up at the house a couple of weeks ago to save me.’

     ‘I shouldn’t have to remind you that _you_ ended up being the one saving _me_ that day,’ he gave you a small smile, to which you just shrugged.

     He downed the rest of his drink, threw the cup and followed you to your car after you did the same with yours. He helped you out a bit with directions, since you were still new to this area of town in particular, and he asked a question you had heard one too many times.

     ‘Do you like _Doctor Who_?’

     ‘Haha, yes, I actually do. If I had a penny for every person who has asked me that the moment they heard my accent...’ you trailed off, laughing quietly.

     ‘Oh, no! It wasn’t because of your accent. It’s just that you have a TARDIS sticker in that black notebook,’ he was pointing at the little object sitting on top of the glove compartment.

     You had forgotten about that. You bought it on impulse one day at the stationery’s. It reminded you too much of your father’s, which you had left back at the house. You had added the TARDIS sticker just to make it seem more... _you_.

     ‘Okay, that’s embarrassing. Mind you, I didn’t think your comment was racist or anything; it just reminded me of the many conversations I had during my time at Georgetown, inside _and_ outside of university,’ you told him, hoping you hadn’t insulted him.

     ‘Don’t worry! I was scared I had offended you.’

     The rest of ride was spent discussing your favourite episodes, and you confessing that you hadn’t watched more than the first episode of what is considered “Classic _Who_ ”. He started rambling about all of the facts that you had probably missed in the new series because of that, and you kept having to tell him to stop by doing your best impression of River Song’s famous phrase: “ _Spoilers_ ”.

 

* * *

     By the time you reached HQ and dropped your files in your former unit chief’s desk, you had somehow agreed to a _Doctor Who_ marathon with Reid, which, he told you, would probably include Garcia, since she wouldn’t forgive either of you if you were to binge-watch it without her. He waited for you to drop the files and let you go inside the lift before him, and he allowed to go out first when it arrived at the floor where the BAU offices were. He was either being a gentleman or avoiding any possibility of physical contact with you; you weren’t sure which one it was yet.

     You two were still chatting and throwing theories back and forth about the possibility of there being a War Doctor and how that affected the timeline of the series, when Garcia caught sight of you. She discreetly took a picture and sent it to the only other person who, so far, knew of her little scheme. After putting her phone away, she approached you and hugged you tightly.

     ‘I’m so glad you’re back! How was everything? How are _you_? How’s your mum?’ she fired question after question, while you were still trapped in her embrace.

     ‘Garcia, I think she can’t breathe,’ Reid told her. She released you, but left both of her hands in your upper arms.

     ‘Thank you... Reid,’ you said in between breaths. You were about to call him “love”, but this time your brain caught up with you, and you refrained. _Oh, I said it earlier, didn’t I? Should I apologise? Maybe I’ll wait to see if he mentions it_. ‘I’m glad to see you too, Garcia. The funeral was fine, thank you. I’m... alright. My mum decided to stay with her younger sister, Victoria, and her family for this first month. She’ll be back in March to help me clean the house.’

     ‘Okay, let me know when that happens and I’ll be there to help you, with the house or whenever you need me. It’s not a question.’

     ‘Understood,’ you smiled and looked down at your shoes, feeling a little overwhelmed by her kindness and not wanting to break down on your first day. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to give this to Hotch.’ Garcia was a little reluctant, but let you go, and Reid just nodded at you, eyeing the file in your hand and furrowing his brow.

     ‘Good morning, sir,’ you said after knocking on Hotch’s open door. You closed it and took a seat.

     ‘Grey-Hart, it’s good to see you. How was England?’ he had stopped writing and was looking at you; although his perfect mask didn’t give anything away.

     ‘It’s good to be back. It was rainy as usual, quiet, but okay overall,’ he nodded, aware that you weren’t quite ready to talk about the funeral. ‘Also, I wanted to thank you for giving me my badge two weeks ago. I was already planning when I should call you while in England so that I wouldn’t wake you in the middle of the night,’ you smiled at him.

     ‘I figured as much. It was mainly so that I wouldn’t have to bother you during your time off,’ his smile was kind and fatherly. He, then, directed his attention to his office phone. ‘Garcia, gather everyone in the conference room, please. Tell them it’s urgent.’

     You looked at him, confused. _You had a case already?_

     ‘No, it’s not what you think, but everyone will arrive at the same conclusion,’ his tone changed to a more serious one then. ‘As you are still an intern in this unit, and given your... current situation, I would like you to stay behind during the first few cases we get. Please, don’t take this as an insult to your abilities, as I wouldn’t have hired you if I thought you weren’t ready for this job. I just want to make sure you’re emotionally ready before you go out there.’

     ‘I understand, sir. I didn’t take it as such. Thank you for still giving me the opportunity, despite everything that has happened.’

     ‘Not a problem. I’m glad you were able to join us,’ he got up and moved towards the door. ‘Ready for a proper introduction?’

     ‘Yes, sir.’

     You walked behind him and entered the conference room. The rest of the team was already there, and they all smiled at you when they saw you. You smiled back and looked at Hotch. He cleared his throat and officially introduced you to them.

     ‘As all of you probably remember, this is (Y/n) Grey-Hart. She was the one who gave us the location of Harvey Steele and later helped arrest the UnSub and get the confession out of him. As of today, she’ll be working at the BAU as an intern and as an active part of this team,’ he announced to the group.

     You gave a little wave and said “good morning” to them, not really knowing what else to add. Their faces were a mix of emotions: Garcia was practically jumping up and down; Rossi looked as if he already knew this was going to happen; Morgan and JJ smiled at you; Dr Lewis looked surprised but pleased, since she had seen the way you had handled yourself during the interrogation, and Reid couldn’t hide his shocked expression -he probably wasn't expecting that when he ran into you that morning. They all welcomed you as they exited the room one by one, happy to have you on the team –and secretly relieved at not having to travel for a case just yet. Garcia was last and she hugged you, for a second time in less than half an hour, and then she left the room with an arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both followed Hotch to your new desk in the bullpen.

     Once you were seated, Hotch left you to get settled, and Garcia brought you a brand new blue mug and a pen, which had matching blue feathers at the end. You thanked her, even though the pen was _definitely_ not your style. You were scared you might start crying. You felt so... _warm_ inside. You immediately went to make yourself a coffee in your new mug, and as you waited for it to be done, you turned your gaze to the bullpen and saw Morgan teasing Reid about something, and JJ laughing at the exchange. Lewis, Rossi and Hotch were nowhere to be seen, and Garcia had gone back to her office.

     As the coffee finished percolating, you felt yourself smile genuinely for the first time in two weeks. Granted, you were a little nervous about what laid ahead: you were a newbie at this, only having _read_ about murderers and serial killers, and they were already seasoned agents with years of experience. Despite Dr Blake’s reassurances on the phone, you truly hoped you’d be able to catch up to them.

 

* * *

     Your first week at the BAU was rather uneventful. There were no cases at the moment so the team started taking turns to train you on how to go about the never-ending pile of consultations they got from police stations all over the country. Everyone was patient and they were pleasantly surprised when you told them what you had studied and that you had met Dr Blake while she was teaching in Georgetown. The only one who couldn’t make time to do this was Hotch, since he was in charge of the whole team besides having to do his own share of paperwork.

     You had always been a fast learner, so after Morgan, JJ and Rossi’s training, you pretty much knew how to do the work. When it was Dr Lewis’ turn to help you out, she decided to, instead, give you tips on how to handle interrogations, since it was her area of expertise. You took advantage of the opportunity and asked her as many questions as you could, always trying to avoid crossing the line to “annoying”.

     The last person assigned to help you during this first week was Dr Reid. It had been a _shock_ to find out that he was your next door neighbour that Monday afternoon when you had offered to give him a ride back. You became extremely suspicious of Garcia and called her right away once you and Reid entered your respective flats. She just dismissed your comments and thought that the fact you had moved right next door to one of your co-workers wasn’t that big of a deal. She said she hadn’t mentioned anything because she had deemed it unimportant and you hadn’t even met the team at that point.

     You decided not to mention the fact that it was Garcia who had told you about the flat in the first place to Reid and just let it slide. But your mind kept going back to Dr Blake’s reaction when she helped you move and how she had laughed when she saw your flat’s number. There was something definitely fishy about all of this but you weren’t sure how to go about finding out, or whether you actually wanted to know. _It’s just Reid. Garcia is right; it’s not that big of a deal. I’m overreacting_. Besides, he was nice and seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to you.

     Since then, you had started coming to and leaving work together every day. You already knew that around eighty percent of the time you spent with Reid, both inside and outside the office, consisted of him throwing facts at you at a considerably fast pace. You tried your best to keep up, but sometimes you had to stop him and asked him to repeat himself in simpler terms, especially when he started talking about physics –one of his favourite topics you soon realised. Whenever you did this, he was always surprised at the fact that you were asking him to repeat whatever it was he was saying, instead of just nodding and moving on to another topic.

     Despite having troubles keeping up with him, you could match his enthusiasm when the topics were closer to your interests, meaning books and comic books, specifically sci-fi and fantasy. You were _fascinated_ by his theories on some of your favourite stories. And, even though he usually had a very logic and valid counterargument that threw your own theories out of the window, he always listened to you with a small smile, giving you all of his attention.

     Going back to the task at hand, that Friday, when the time came around for Reid to help you, again, there wasn’t much left for you to learn regarding paperwork, so you decided to ask him about more practical things, like how to apply different techniques you had read about when trying to get someone to talk, or how to calm an UnSub down in the field so as to avoid a shooting, among other things. You felt the most comfortable talking to him and Garcia, but that’s probably because they were the only people you had spent time with outside of the office.

     Surprisingly, because everyone needed to make time to help you, no one had any paperwork left by the time the clock said it was 6 pm. Taking advantage of this rare occasion, Garcia proposed going out for dinner to celebrate your addition to the team. However, not everyone was so eager: Hotch and JJ needed to get home to their families; Rossi already had plans, and Lewis was going to take advantage of the weekend to get some of her interrogations done.

     That left you, Reid, Morgan and Garcia free on a Friday night. Truth be told, you wanted to have some dinner, a hot bath and call it a night with a book, but you knew Garcia would not let you do that, so you agreed. You were all going to meet at Morgan’s place at 8 for some pizza. There wasn’t much time, so you and Reid left the office at 6.30 to get ready for dinner. Reid just had a quick shower and came knocking on your door at 7.30. You had _just_ got out of the shower and still had only a towel around your wet body, so when he announced that it was him, you told him to come in and make himself at home while you changed. You trusted him and you had a lock in your bedroom door. _Plus your gun_ , your inner voice said.

     He was a little reluctant to let himself in, since he hadn’t been in your flat yet. He did so anyway because he didn’t want to seem rude by rejecting your invitation, and going back to his own place to wait for you to take him to Morgan’s house just seemed silly. He knew you didn’t have many pieces of furniture –you had told him so over coffee one morning–, so after inspecting your small collection of books, he just sat down on your couch and waited for you to come out of your room.

     Reid felt... odd waiting for you like that. He felt out of place. He was about to tell you some dumb excuse about forgetting something in his flat when you came out, still drying your hair with a towel. You were [wearing](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/142967799996/wutb-outfit-chapter-6) a pair of black leggings, a maroon, loose-fitting sweater that came down to your mid-thighs and a pair of black, leather ankle boots. Reid was in the middle of standing up when you walked into the living room and, he almost fell back down onto the couch when he saw you. Somehow, seeing you smile and being so comfortable like that -hair a mess from the shower and a clean face- made him stop in his tracks. You laughed lightly at him.

      ‘You okay there, love?’

     ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. You just... scared me a little and I almost sat back down,’ his eyes were trained on you, and his tongue left the confines of his mouth to lick his lips once he finished talking.

     ‘Alright,’ you felt small under his gaze, just like that day in Garcia’s office a couple of weeks ago. You couldn’t take it; you needed to get out of the room. ‘So, give me ten minutes to get my hair dry and put on some make-up, and then we can go. Are we okay with time?’ you finished, breaking eye contact with the excuse of looking for your phone.

     ‘Yes, we have time. Morgan’s house is just about fifteen minutes from here,’ he was looking down at his watch, and like that, the spell you were both under was broken.

     You finished getting ready, grabbed a small purse and a long coat -both black- from your closet and left. For some strange reason, the car ride to get to Morgan’s house was practically silent, only broken at times by Reid giving you directions on how to get there. You felt as if you had run out of topics and you didn’t know how to fill the silence. You made it there in record time thanks to Reid’s instructions and were greeted at the door by an already _happy_ Garcia. Another interesting night awaited you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the neighbour thing too cliché? I couldn't help myself, to be honest :)  
> Let me know if you liked the chapter!
> 
> Edit: I have created a tumblr account dedicated to Criminal Minds: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/). This story will also be posted there, along with reblogs of some of my favourite authors in this community, as well as pictures, gifs, etc. :)


	7. Pizzas and a tipsy Garcia

“ _Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass... It’s about learning to dance in the rain_.”

– Vivian Greene

* * *

_At Morgan’s house_ (Friday, 8 pm)

     ‘Come in, guys!’ that was all she said before turning around and almost falling to the floor. ‘I’m okay.’

     ‘Is she always like that when she drinks?’ you asked Reid, who had taken off his coat and was now helping you with yours. ‘Thank you, by the way.’

     ‘No problem,’ he gave you a small smile as he hung your coat and purse next to his own in the coat rack on the wall to your left. ‘And yes, she gets giddier, if that’s even possible.’

     ‘I can vouch for that,’ said a female voice, the owner of which was coming from a little hallway, probably connected to the kitchen. She approached Reid first and gave him a hug. ‘Hi, _you_. How’s everything?’

     ‘Quite good, actually. How are you?’ he looked a little uncomfortable, it seemed, due to her close proximity.

     ‘How many times do I have to say it? Get your hands off my girl, pretty boy!’ Morgan’s voice sounded playful despite the “threat”.

     They both smiled at each other, and the woman turned to you.

     ‘You must be the new intern, (Y/n) Grey-Hart, right? My name’s Savannah. Nice to meet you.’

     ‘That’s me! Nice to meet you, too, Savannah.’ You shook her hand and reciprocated the smile. Her eyes were _stunning_. ‘You have a beautiful home.’

     ‘Thank you. It was all Derek, though. He’s the one who remodelled it before we moved in together.’

     ‘Wow, kudos, Morgan. Didn’t know you were such a handy man.’

     ‘Yeah, I can also make some _mean_ drinks. Does anyone want anything?’ Garcia’s hand shot up in the air at the mention of more alcohol. ‘Not you, baby girl. You should eat something before you continue drinking.’

     Garcia pouted at being lectured and started complaining to Morgan who disappeared into the living room.

     ‘Come in, guys, don’t be shy! And (Y/n), don’t get scared by Penelope. In fact, she’s just had _one_ drink. It’s all for show,’ Savannah whispered the last part, making sure Garcia wasn’t near.

     ‘If I didn’t get scared by her flat, when she kindly allowed me to stay there a few weeks ago, I shouldn’t get scared by her drunken state... I think.’

     You all got situated in the living room. You somehow ended up in the middle of the couch, with Reid on your right and Garcia on your left, while Morgan and Savannah opted for the two armchairs opposite the couch so that they could be closer to the kitchen, should they need to get anything.

     The first half hour was spent chatting about work until the pizzas arrived. You moved to the dining table then, and Morgan asked everyone once again if they wanted something to drink. Reid and Savannah asked for a beer each, Garcia, for a drink you had never heard of, and you declined the offer of alcohol and instead asked for some water.

     ‘You’re not drinking anything, Grey-Hart? Aren’t you taking the whole “designated driver” thing a little too far?’ he asked you with a teasing tone.

     ‘No, thank you, really. I just... don’t drink alcohol.’

     ‘Like, _ever?’_ Garcia interjected.

     ‘No, never.’

     ‘Any reason for that? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,’ Morgan told you sincerely when he got back with the drinks.

     Everyone’s eyes were on you as you swallowed the first bite of your pizza slice.

     ‘Truth is... I’m a bit of a loner, I was even more so as a teenager. When I was told I could advance a few grades during secondary school, I immersed myself in my studies. Then, since I graduated at 16 and immediately went to university in England, under my aunt’s careful watch may I add, I was never really invited to any parties. Understandable if you consider the fact I was still a minor. In Georgetown, I was a little too focused on getting my Master’s degree and working to pay rent, so again, not many party options for me.’

     ‘No friends wanting to get you out to bars or clubs?’ Morgan continued.

     ‘Nope. I didn’t get many invitations after declining the first few. I was living on my own outside of campus, and, as sad as it may sound, the only friend I made there was actually Dr Blake,’ you tried not to sound _too_ pathetic, but you knew you had failed to do so.

     ‘Wow,’ Garcia commented. ‘I’m so sorry if I made you feel obligated to come tonight!’

     ‘Nonsense! I didn’t feel obligated at all, love. Please, don’t think that! I came here because I _do_ want to get to know my co-workers, especially after everything I heard about them from you!’ you _had_ wanted to stay at home, but she didn’t need to know that.

     ‘Should we be scared about that?’ Savannah spoke, looking warily at Garcia.

     ‘You will know in our next girls’ night only! If (Y/n) and the rest agree to join us, of course! You don’t mind if I use your first name, right?’ she was practically pleading you with her eyes to say “yes”.

     ‘I don’t mind, no, and sure!’ you put on a bright smile and directed it at Garcia, who beamed at you.

     ‘May!’ she said, the sound muffled by the pizza in her mouth, but you knew it was supposed to be a “yay”.

     The rest of the night was spent talking, and drinking by the others. It was mainly another get-to-know-you session, but much more relaxed than the last one, especially since you had actually agreed to this one.

     ‘Grey-Hart, let me get this straight: you graduated from secondary school at 16, from Cambridge at 19 and got your Master’s degree from Georgetown at 23, correct?’ Morgan seemed to be more into the questions than Garcia was. You nodded. ‘And then you got into the FBI? Just like that?’

     ‘I got a little bit of help from Dr Blake, but yes. You guys know this, the FBI recruits new members according to whatever they need at that specific moment, and, a year and a half ago, they needed someone with knowledge in behavioural analysis that was fluent in Spanish to start tracking a lead on a Mexican cartel. I fitted that need perfectly. Dr Blake’s letter of recommendation was an added bonus to convince them to hire me, despite my still being in my early twenties.’

     ‘You’re fluent in Spanish?’ Savannah asked you.

     ‘Yes. My mum, who used to work as a Maths teacher and has a passion for literature, started tutoring me after school while I was still really young, which is why I managed to graduate early, and she thought that knowing a second language would help me in the future. She knew the basics because her aunt had been married to an Argentinian man a long while ago and she learnt some things so as to be able to communicate with him. Then, I started checking books out of the library to continue learning and I used the internet to practise pronunciation. I hired an actual teacher while I was in England and sat for an international exam when I came back here.’

     ‘So, you’re like a female version of boy genius over here, huh?’ Garcia said pointing at Reid.

     ‘Sadly, no, my IQ is probably _nowhere_ near Reid’s!’ you all laughed a little at that, but Reid looked a little taken aback by your comment.

     However, before he could say anything, Garcia, who was already on her fifth drink, continued:

     ‘Oh, no, I’ve just realised,’ you thought she looked... concerned? ‘Instead of a third wheel, I’m like a _fifth_ wheel here!’

 _Can she be_ that _drunk after five drinks?_ You honestly didn’t know.

     ‘Did you know that the original expression was actually “to be a fifth wheel” and the phrase “third wheel” started to be used in...,’ Reid started with his usual fact-spewing, unaware of the implications of Garcia’s comment, but Savannah held her hand up to make him stop and addressed Garcia directly.

     ‘What are you talking about, Penelope?’ she smiled, but her eyes seemed suspicious again.

     ‘Well, it’s _obvious_ , isn’t it? You and Morgan are a thing already, and then Reid and (Y/n) will _surely_ be a thing...’

     Oh, your face matched your maroon sweater now! Reid had his mouth hanging open and looked at Garcia in disbelief, not that _you_ would have known... you couldn’t look at either of them since you had chosen to cover your face as discreetly as possible with your right hand. Morgan was laughing and shaking his head at Garcia, while Savannah had got up from where she was sitting next to you on the couch and decided to take her away from the living room, still maintaining a conversation with her despite Garcia’s drunken rambling.

     ‘And why would that happen, Penny?’ Savannah asked her, wrapping an arm around her waist to make sure she didn’t fall.

     ‘Because they are _perfect_ for each other! I know they have just met, but Valentine’s Day is coming up and...’ Garcia’s slurring became distant as they ascended the stairs to the first floor.

     ‘Where is Savannah taking her?’ you asked once you felt your face had returned to its normal, _paler_ , state.

     ‘To Garcia’s spare bedroom upstairs,’ Morgan told you, while taking a swing from his beer.

     ‘And why...? You know what? I’m not sure I want to know,’ you were the one shaking your head now.

     ‘It’s not that fun of a story for Garcia, but _hilarious_ to us. I’ll tell you one day. I’m gonna go check on them.’

 _So then there were two_. You chanced a glance at Reid: he was still frozen in place, looking at where Garcia had been sitting on one of the armchairs.

     ‘Um, Reid? You alright there?’ you moved a hand in front of his face to get him to focus on you.

     ‘What? Yeah, I’m fine. You? I’m sorry about Garcia. You know she has crazy ideas on a daily basis. You add alcohol, and I guess all filter goes flying out of the window.’

     ‘I’ll make a mental note of that.’

     Nothing was heard, except for some mumbling from upstairs, until Reid spoke again.

     ‘Hey, Grey-Hart... I wanted to ask you something about your comment earlier, about your IQ. Why did you say “sadly”?’

     ‘Oh, I don’t even remember what I said...’

     ‘“ _Sadly, no, my IQ is probably_ nowhere _near Reid’s_ ,”’ he quoted you, verbatim. ‘Eidetic memory.’

     ‘Right. Well, I thought it was clear. Your IQ is _incredible!_ I know I’ve been tested in the past but I always refused to know what my results were. People seem to care a lot about those kinds of things, but I, for one, don’t think it should be a defining characteristic, you know?’ you turned and saw him giving you an odd look; it held something you couldn’t identify.

     ‘Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel! But people always assume I’m just saying it _because_ my IQ level is high,’ he now turned towards you completely, tucking his left leg under his body.

     You mirrored his position and quoted something yourself:

     ‘“ _How_ cruel _is life to those who are blessed with a good memory and a tender heart_ ,”’ you said jokingly.

     ‘Shakieb Orgunwall,’ he said, recognising the quote. ‘And yes, I would have to agree,’ he laughed, and you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.

     You continued talking... unaware that Savannah had come back down and was listening to your conversation from the stairs and was already making a mental note to tell Garcia she was absolutely right about you two. Granted, she didn’t know you that well, but Reid was pretty transparent. Garcia told her all about her scheme before Morgan joined them upstairs: she had had a feeling you and Reid would get along, and she had genuinely wanted to help you find a flat, so she sent you the address to the one down the hall from him, thinking you two could at least form a pretty nice friendship.

     What she hadn’t counted on was Reid’s reaction towards you: he had told Garcia how he was almost shot and that you had saved him from the UnSub; he seemed intrigued by you. Garcia then told Savannah about how he had been looking at you when she entered her lair with Hotch later that day, and how Reid had been the one to send you the note during the interrogation you handled successfully, despite your grieving. The following week he had even admitted finding your accent kind of cute, after Garcia bribed him with a delicious cup of coffee from his favourite place to see what he had thought of you. He had got the same glint in his eyes like when he talked about something he was passionate about.

     And from what Savannah could hear, she was sure of it: he was definitely interested but, he probably didn’t even know it. She had seen how he had looked at you when he took your coat earlier. And the little glances he dared take when he thought no one was looking. She decided to make her presence known in the living room when she heard Morgan coming from Garcia’s room.

     ‘Sorry, guys. We had to put Garcia in bed to get her to stop talking. I hope she didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, (Y/n).’

     ‘None at all! Like I said, I survived a night alone with her at her place, and, really, she is nothing but kind to me. She’s just... _eccentric_.’

     ‘ _That_ she is,’ Morgan said, wrapping his arms around Savannah’s middle, and you took that as your cue to leave.

     ‘I guess we should get going, right Reid?’

     ‘Yes, we should,’ he told you and got up quickly, not wanting to witness another one of Morgan’s make out sessions with his girlfriend.

     Once you reached the front door, Reid helped you get into your coat and passed you your purse before putting his own coat on. You smiled a little to yourself at the gesture, but didn’t let it get to your head. _He’s just being nice_.

     ‘Thank you for everything, guys! It was a pleasure to meet you, Savannah.’

     ‘Same here. Drive safe!’ she hugged you both.

     ‘See you on Monday, Morgan,’ Reid told him, and Morgan pulled him in for a one arm hug.

     ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, pretty boy,’ he whispered in Reid’s ear. He got flustered and went to stand next to the car waiting for you.

     ‘I don’t even want to know what you told him,’ you were not sure whether you should hug him, but he went for it anyway without a second’s pause.

     ‘See ya!’ he told you with a wink.

     You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and got into your car. Once you stopped at a red light a couple of blocks away, both you and Reid reached for the radio at the same time, wanting to fill the silence, and _of course_ your hands touched. You both apologised, but neither of you actually turned the radio on in the end, which left you in an awkward silence again. _I should really get used to this. Silence seems to be a constant companion when we’re together_.

     You unconsciously started humming, prompting a smile to form on Reid’s lips. He had realised quite fast you did that whenever silence became too much for you: whether it was in the car or at your desk in the bullpen. He could’ve sworn he had even heard you singing through the wall a couple of times during the past week. He wasn’t going to ask you to stop, though; it secretly soothed him to hear you do that.

 

* * *

     Despite Garcia’s comment, Valentine’s Day came and went without so much as another reference about you and Reid from her. She had apologised to you both the moment you arrived on Monday and had been quiet ever since. _Odd, but maybe she is really embarrassed about what she said_. You shrugged and continued working as normal.

     Yet, during the next couple of weeks, you and Reid developed a sort of routine. When the team was not out chasing bad guys in a different state, you would go to and leave work together; and, because you drove him, he made sure to get you a coffee every single day without you having to move a single finger. He would knock on your door and already have two cups in his hands, leaving you protesting during the whole trip down the stairs to get to your car. He would just smile at you and sip his coffee silently, which left you no choice but to shut up yourself and drive. And start humming, he noticed.

     Truth be told... you adored the fact that he had taken the time to memorise your order –even if it wasn’t that much of an effort for him–, and how he just _knew_ when you were craving for something made of chocolate at 7.30 in the morning. You still yelled at yourself for enjoying it so much. _“He’s just being nice”_ became a typical thought for you, one that you had several times a day now.

     It was a bit overwhelming, you know, receiving so much attention from a guy. _From a co-worker_ , you told yourself. You sighed at your lunch. You had been filling out paperwork, waiting for the team to arrive from Montpelier, Vermont. The police there had called the BAU to assist them after three women turned up dead and they were all missing their right foot. You had gagged a little at the pictures. Thankfully, it was just a couple of days before the team managed to get the guy. He had a _very_ specific fetish. You still shuddered at the details he gave during the interrogation.

     You finished your lunch _and_ your reports on the case before the team arrived. It was just a little after 4 pm when they returned to the office, but Hotch asked everyone to have their reports ready before they left so that they could all rest the next day. You brought everyone lunch, since they had been travelling, and stayed in Penelope’s office for the rest of the afternoon chatting until it was time to leave. You had started using her first name as well after Friday’s dinner, and she had even created a little message group which included Savannah, you and herself. It was fun. You felt like you _belonged_ for the first time.

     You came back into the bullpen and saw that everyone was getting ready to leave, so you grabbed your things and waited for Reid to finish up. You offered to take everyone’s reports to Hotch, and Reid waited for you at his desk.

     ‘Here you go, sir. Everyone’s reports are there, except for Rossi’s, since I couldn’t find him.’

     ‘Yes, he had to leave earlier. Thank you, Grey-Hart. Could you take a seat?’ Hotch asked you with a serious face.

     ‘Of course,’ _what did I do?_

     ‘Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong. Actually, it’s the opposite. I wanted to congratulate you on your job in the last couple of cases we’ve had and also ask you if you feel ready to join us in the field.’

 _Oh, the relief_. You had actually been feeling a bit like crap during the last week. You were still not past the first stages of the grieving process, so after the excitement of the first week at the BAU, you had started going back to your habits of eating and generally being by yourself. JJ had come to look for you one day and found you sniffling in one of the bathroom stalls. She promised not to tell anyone, but maybe she had confided in Hotch, knowing he was the one who had to clear you to join them in the field.

     ‘Thank you, sir. I... don’t know what to say, to be honest.’

     ‘Don’t worry about that now. Take the next couple of days to think about it, but let me know sooner rather than later so that I can fill the necessary paperwork to clear your status, should another case take us away next week.’

     ‘Of course. I will, sir. And, again, thank you. I hope you enjoy your day off tomorrow,’ you got up to leave.

     ‘You, too, Grey-Hart,’ he gave you a small smile and refocused on the papers in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that I went back to Chapter 6 and added two links with pictures of two outfits the reader mentions she's wearing. Those links will take you to my new tumblr (dedicated to Criminal Minds). Come follow me if you'd like! I'm also posting the fic there because I know not many people have AO3 accounts and prefer using tumblr to read fanfiction.
> 
> Here's the link: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Let me know if the outfit thingy is something you'd like to see or not. I mainly made them for me because I like those kinds of things :)


	8. Bonding

_“You can’t cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water.”_

 – Rabindranath Tagore

* * *

 _At your flat_ (Thursday, 11 am)

     It was the next day and you all had the day off. Reid had congratulated you on the ride back when you told him Hotch had given you the green light to join them in the field and that now it was up to you. When you asked him what you should do, he refused to give you his opinion, knowing full well the decision had to be made by you when you felt ready. You were aware of that, but you wanted some help. By now, you knew that your mum would let you decide on your own as well, and Dr Blake would probably encourage you to do it.

     But, were you ready? You had had this question going through your mind the _whole_ of the previous night, which caused you to get up at almost noon. _So much for a resting day_ , you thought. You got up, showered and had some tea, since you couldn’t be bothered to go out and get yourself a proper cup of coffee. _Coffee_. That thought made your mind inevitably drift towards Reid. You sighed. You didn’t think not seeing him would affect you. _Maybe it is just lack of caffeine_.

     You decided to make yourself some brunch but soon realised that you were running low on food. _A trip to the store it is_. You were tired, hungry, and your head was starting to ache. This was turning out to be a pretty crappy day off. You went to the supermarket by car, since you couldn’t be bothered to walk, and came back with four big bags worth of food, hoping that cooking and filling up your fridge with home‑made meals would help you get the distraction you were craving for.

     However, your plan‑making was interrupted by one lanky man standing in front of your door. Reid greeted you and took three of the bags you were holding when he heard you, and then you both got into your flat.

     ‘Grey‑Hart, I thought maybe you were ignoring me because of what I said yesterday. I had been knocking for five minutes and thirty-four seconds when I heard you coming up the stairs,’ he told you precisely.

     ‘Oh, no! I wouldn’t ignore you for speaking your mind, Reid, especially if I asked for your opinion. As you can see, I had to make a quick run to the store,’ you said, lifting the one bag left in your hand and put it on top of your dining table.

     You were unpacking your purchases and putting things away, when you felt his eyes on you again. He had been staring at your head during the exchange, so you turned around, hoping he would stop, but he obviously didn’t. You hadn’t bothered to even brush your hair after your shower, so you had put on an [old beanie](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/143376917441/wutb-outfits-chapter-8) to disguise the lack of attention to your own appearance.

     ‘Do I have something on my head, Reid?’ you asked him when the silence became too much and faced him.

     ‘What?’ his eyes locked with yours. _Oh, no, abort!_ your brain was yelling at you. ‘No, no, it’s just... that beanie looks good on you.’

     Your eyes went to his lips then. It’s not that he smiled while he paid you the compliment. Nope. He was doing his little tic: licking his lips! _Erase it! Delete it! Bleach the image from your mind! Bad thoughts, bad!_

     ‘Um...’ _good_ , you forgot how to _English_ properly. You turned around hoping you would remember how to speak again. ‘Thank you, it was really just to hide my hair,’ _yeah, okay, no need to tell him you haven’t even brushed it_.

     ‘Oh, bad hair day?’ he said through a little laugh. ‘I don’t even try to tame mine anymore. I just let it do whatever it wants.’

     ‘Yeah, well, it _definitely_ works for you...’ it was a good thing you had turned around; otherwise, he would have seen how your eyes grew twice their size, and how _hard_ you were blushing. You closed your eyes and took a big breath through your nose to calm down.

     ‘Um, thanks,’ you didn’t see it, but he was blushing a bit as well.

     ‘Hey, Reid,’ you called after a couple of minutes of him handing you things silently while you put them away. ‘Have you had any lunch?’

     ‘No, I actually woke up quite late, so I only had breakfast. I was really tired after almost 48 hours of no sleep.’

     ‘48 hours?! Was it because of the case? I thought you guys stayed at a hotel,’ you couldn’t believe how he had managed to finish his paperwork the day before without collapsing on top of his desk.

     ‘Yes, we did. But I never sleep all that well anyways, and staying in hotels doesn’t really help me, so I just stayed up reading, trying to figure out the UnSub’s location from the evidence we had. That’s why we found him so quickly,’ he said it as if it weren’t a big deal.

     ‘Regardless of why you can’t sleep at hotels or even at all during a case, you should at least try to rest properly while at home, okay love?’ there it was again. _I have got to bloody stop dropping that word in conversation with him. It comes out so easily, though_.

     ‘Thank you,’ the corners of his lips turned up a little. ‘For your concern, I mean.’

     ‘No problem, we’re in the same team after all,’ you smiled and acted as if you hadn’t called him “love” once more. ‘ _Anyway_ , how about some lunch?’

     ‘Sure. Where do you wanna go?’

     ‘Go? We’re not going anywhere. I was planning on cooking tons of food so that I could just freeze it and reheat it in case I feel too lazy to actually make something after work. I thought you could, you know, join me. If you want, that is,’ your teenage self would’ve been clapping at the spectacle you were putting on.

     ‘Oh, please, you don’t need to invite me because I’m here,’ he told you quickly.

     ‘Come on, Reid! It’s just like with the rides to and from work. I don’t feel obligated. I _genuinely_ like talking to you... Like I said before, we’re on the same team. We should all take care of each other, right?’ _nice safe, Grey‑Hart_.

     ‘Yeah, yeah, of course,’ he swallowed, and your eyes inevitably followed the movement, which meant that you missed his brow furrowing. ‘What can I do to help?’ you just saw the small smile he gave you afterwards.

 

* * *

     You ended up making grilled chicken with some sautéed veggies. Reid cut everything, while you seasoned and cooked. Your kitchen was small so it all felt _extremely_ intimate. You were thankful for the excuse to open the windows when your flat was filled up by the smoke from the stove... You felt a little _too_ warm. It was odd. It was just Reid, and yet, no one had ever made you feel like this before. _You’re letting yourself be fooled. You are reading_ way _too much into it_. Maybe you were spending a little too much time with him.

     You finished having lunch at a little past 1 pm, and he _insisted_ on doing the washing up since you had refused to let him pay you back for what he had eaten.

 _“I invited you!”_ had been your argument.

 _“Then, at least let me help out and wash the dishes!”_ was his reply.

     You even ended it with a “ _Fine_ ” each. _Adorable_ , you thought sarcastically. _Make it seem even more domestic, why don’t ya?_ You released a long sigh after you finished drinking your glass of water.

     ‘Grey‑Hart, are you okay? You’ve been sighing a lot.’

     ‘Are you profiling me, Reid?’ you defied him with a little smirk ghosting your features. He smiled and looked down.

     ‘Not exactly, you just seem... worried lately.’

     ‘I am, actually. I still don’t know if I feel ready to be with the lot of you out there in the field, and my mum is bound to come at some point during the first week of March.’

     ‘You’ll be cleaning the house?’

     ‘Yes. It’s mainly throwing away anything that cannot be donated or sold, and putting everything that we want to keep in boxes, but...’

     ‘But it’s still difficult to come to terms with,’ he sat next to you at the dining table, and you nodded, holding back your tears as he ranted. ‘You know Garcia said she would help you, and I’m pretty sure she can convince Morgan, too. Also, for what it’s worth, I could also be there. I don’t know if we’re gonna be more of a hindrance than-’

     ‘Thank you,’ you said, putting your right hand on top of his on the table, while a couple of tears travelled down your cheeks.

     Crying in front of Garcia and JJ didn’t make you feel uncomfortable; they had hugged you immediately, true to the kind nature Dr Blake had told you about. But now? You didn’t want to make Reid feel like he needed to hug you or something. You patted his hand awkwardly and went to move it to wipe away your tears, but he held onto it. You looked up at him and saw the same kindness you had seen in the girls’ eyes, which made you contort your face and so you hid it in the crook of your left arm on top of the table.

     You heard his chair scraping against the floor, and then he tugged at your hand until you got up. Before you had time to react, you found yourself in his warm embrace. You froze. The guy who refused to shake anyone’s hand was _hugging_ you!

     ‘It’s okay. I’m sorry if you feel weird about this, I just... couldn’t stand doing nothing while you were crying.’

     His voice was barely above a whisper. You put your arms around his middle and cried to your heart’s content. At some point, he had moved you to the couch, but he never let go of you. You figured you fell asleep due to exhaustion from the previous sleepless night, and your crying so much, because when you opened your eyes again, you were lying down on your couch and you had the blanket you usually kept at the foot of your bed on top of you and a pillow under your head. You sat and looked around. Reid was at your table, reading one your favourite books. It was the third one, you deducted, from the little pile you were able to see on the table. Your glasses were sitting next to the pile of books.

     ‘Hey,’ you croaked. Your voice was raspy from your unexpected nap. ‘What time is it?’

     ‘Around five. You fell asleep on the couch, so I took the liberty of grabbing that pillow and blanket from your room. I also borrowed a few of your books. I hope you don’t mind,’ his voice was low, and he cleared his throat when you said nothing.

     ‘No, of course not,’ you said as you got up. ‘Thank you for doing that and I’m sorry I _literally_ used your shoulder to cry on,’ you wanted to give him a hug to show him your gratitude but were unsure whether you were crossing a line now that you were not crying like a baby. ‘You stayed there during this whole time?’

     ‘Yes, I didn’t want to leave your side in case you woke up and... felt overwhelmed again.’

 _Screw it_. You went to stand next to him, and he got up when he saw you getting closer. When you reached him, you threw your arms around his neck and he immediately put his arms around your waist, fearing another crying session. Instead, you just sighed.

     ‘Thank you, _seriously_. I’m so sorry for dumping all of that on you. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry for making you waste your day off by babysitting a twenty-five-year old who can’t cope with her own feelings.’

     ‘No, please, there’s no need to apologise,’ he pushed you a little, and you released his neck, but you still remained close to each other. _‘“We should all take care of each other, right?”’_ he quoted you with a smile.

     ‘You’re damn right!’ you responded with a little laugh. ‘Thank you, Reid, really.’

     ‘No problem. Although, I _should_ get going,’ his features were apologetic.

     You didn’t want to feel disappointed but you knew he needed to get back to his own life, and you needed to sort out your thoughts on what to do next.

     ‘Please, don’t let me keep you any longer! Again, thank you for today.’

     ‘Stop saying “thank you”, it wasn’t a big deal, really. See you tomorrow, Grey‑Hart.’

     ‘See you, Reid.’

     When the door closed, you went back to the couch and stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what you wanted to do with your future.

 

* * *

     The next morning you got up earlier than usual, showered and went straight to the coffee shop on foot. You came back and waited in front of Reid’s door, hoping that you would catch him before he left to do the exact same thing you had just done. He opened just a moment later, probably on his way out since he had his coat on and his messenger bag was hanging from his right shoulder. You had the two coffee cups up, covering your face, so that they would be the first thing he saw.

     ‘Hey! That’s not fair! That’s the least I can do for the free car rides!’ he tried to sound mad, but his laugh ruined it.

     ‘And this is the least I could do to repay you for what you did yesterday,’ you shrugged, giving him his over‑sugary fix.

     ‘Thank you, but I told you yesterday that it wasn’t a big deal,’ you were already descending the stairs.

     ‘I know, but I chose to ignore that and show you my gratitude anyway,’ you told him with a big smile as you walked into the parking lot.

     After you two got settled in the car, with your coffees safe in the holders in the console centre and the radio on, Reid decided to ask you whether you had made up your mind about working in the field.

     ‘Yeap.’

     ‘And?’

     ‘Aaaaand, you’ll find out soon enough.’

     ‘Really? You’re not going to tell me?’ he couldn’t believe it, apparently, and you laughed at his surprised expression.

     ‘Nope.’

     ‘Grey‑Hart, don’t make me threaten you.’

     ‘What could you threaten me with?’ you eyed him suspiciously and returned your eyes to the road ahead.

     ‘No more coffee if you don’t tell me before we come into the office,’ he looked so proud of his spontaneous plan.

     ‘Right. I think my first week here and this morning go to show that I _can_ get my own coffee in the mornings.’

     ‘Oh, of course, but I’m not only talking about the mornings.’

     ‘What?’ he had your attention then.

     ‘What you heard. No more coffee in the mornings and no more coffee in the office, either.’

     ‘How? How could you _possibly_ make sure I can’t get any coffee in the office? Especially without bothering anyone else with this little threat?’

     ‘I haven’t worked everything out yet,’ he sounded as if he were actually thinking about it.

     ‘You’re honestly telling me that if I don’t tell you now, minutes before we get there, that you’ll somehow figure out how to prevent me from getting coffee whenever you’re around me?’

     ‘Yes.’

     ‘You _do_ remember I’m both British and American and I can just switch to tea, right?’

     ‘I _do_ remember, and I already know where I can hide the tea bags.’

     It went on like that for the rest of the ride: you telling him he just wouldn’t be able to do something, and him replying that he had already thought of a solution to your question. It was fun. He _challenged_ you. You liked the fact that he made you think, even if it only took him a couple of seconds to find an answer to whichever new “problem” you gave him. You also understood, even if you didn’t know him that well yet, that he was being serious about it, so you finally told him when you were in the lift.

     ‘I’m gonna do it.’

     ‘Tell Hotch? Yeah, you kind of have to.’

     ‘No, Reid. I’m gonna do it. I’ve realised that I _am_ ready to work with you guys in the field.’

     ‘The threat still stands,’ he said looking ahead and opening one of the glass doors.

     ‘Nope. You said I had to tell you before we came _into_ the office,’ you said walking backwards into the bullpen as he held the door open for you, ‘and look! We just did and you _already_ knew!’

     He was trying to find a loophole, you knew it. But there wasn’t one! So, you took your smug arse up the stairs, knocked on Hotch’s door and disappeared inside without so much as a glance back in his direction. JJ came in next and saw Reid standing there, holding the door open still, and with his eyes fixed on the door you had hidden behind.

     ‘Spence, are you okay there?’

     ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. How are you, Jennifer?’ he began moving again, but his eyes were still boring a hole in that door.

     ‘Jennifer? Did I do something unforgivable again?’

     ‘No, sorry, JJ. My mind was somewhere else,’ he finally tore his gaze away and smiled at the blonde standing next to him.

     He didn’t sit, though; instead, he grabbed his mug from his desk and went to the kitchen area outside of the bullpen. JJ stared after him as she got settled at her own desk, wondering what had happened to him. Then, she saw you walking out of Hotch’s office with a smile on your face.

     ‘Good morning, JJ. How are you and the boys?’

     ‘Hi. We are great, and you?’

     ‘Marvellous, thank you,’ you told her as you sat down at your desk, which was just in front of Reid’s. ‘Hey, have you seen my blue mug? I could swear I left it here the other day after I washed it.’

     ‘No, sorry. Um, Grey‑Hart, did something happen between you and Reid this morning?’ everyone knew you came and went together by now.

     ‘What? Oh, I wouldn’t call it _something_ , really. It was just friendly banter. Why?’

     ‘No reason. He just looked a little... I don’t know, _stunned_ when I came in.’

     ‘Did he now?’ you smiled at your little accomplishment; it wasn’t every day you got to say you stunned a genius.

     ‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’ you shrugged at that.

     ‘Maybe _he_ should. Like I said, it was just friendly banter,’ your ringtone was then heard in the entire bullpen. You had rushed so much that morning you had forgotten to silence your phone. ‘Mum? Hi! How are you? Hold on, I’m in the office and I don’t want everyone to hate me so early,’ you mouthed a “sorry” to JJ and left to talk in the hallway just outside the glass doors.

     ‘Where are Grey‑Hart and Reid?’ came Hotch’s voice from the railing.

     ‘She is out there talking to her mum, and I think Reid went to get coffee,’ JJ answered.

     ‘Alright. I have already called the rest and told them to come in _now_. JJ, get Reid and Grey‑Hart into the conference room. We have a case.’

     She nodded and was about to go get you when she saw you sigh and hang up. Then, Reid came to stand next to you and handed you your blue mug. _Oh_ –JJ thought, trying to suppress a smile–, _I see how it is_. She pretended to be looking through some of the files on top of her desk until you two came back and then told you Hotch called everyone into the conference room for a briefing.

 _Perfect_ –you thought sarcastically–. _My mum is coming in a few days and we get a case_. You got up and grabbed your blue mug, which was now filled with boiling hot water and your favourite tea. You followed JJ, sat down next to her and chatted while you waited for the rest of the team to come in. _Maybe_ –you tried to convince yourself– _the butterflies in my stomach are because of the case to come and not because of the attentive genius sitting across from me who seems to be unable to keep the smile off his face_.


	9. Made in Texas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Triggers : Racism.**

_“About here, she thought, dabbling her fingers in the water, a ship had sunk, and she muttered, dreamily half asleep, how we perished, each alone.”_

– Virginia Woolf

* * *

     ‘Dr Lewis is not going to join us this week due to her research, but Grey‑Hart is going to be joining us in the field from now on. Garcia, please,’ Hotch said after everybody sat down.

     ‘Yes, sir! So, on Tuesday morning, Texas police found the bodies of Manuel Hernández, construction worker living in Texas for the past year, his wife, Analía Hernández, who joined her husband there about six months ago with – _oh God,_ this is the worst part– their daughter, Amanda.’

     ‘ _Bloody hell_ , she was only ten,’ you read from the file in your hands. ‘Sorry,’ you added once you realised you had spoken louder than you had intended.

     ‘Yes, it’s _awful_ , I couldn’t bring myself to include her pictures here. You can see them in your files and tablets.’

     ‘Are we thinking hate crime?’ asked Morgan, leaning back in his chair and playing with a pen in his hand. ‘I mean, they were obviously Hispanic.’

     ‘Mexican?’ JJ asked.

     ‘Yes, JJ, and yes, Morgan, at least that’s what the Texas police are thinking as this is the second family that turns up dead from one day to the next. The first family was also Mexican. Here’s the Herrera family: father, Carlos, janitor at a school; mother, Brenda, stay‑at‑home mum, and thirteen‑year‑old son, Santiago. Both families were found at the side of two different, but equally busy roads.’

     ‘What’s singular here is that all three members were killed differently: the men were shot in the chest several times after a beat-up, the women were strangled using what appears to be rope, and the children were shot only once in the head but, from the pictures, the shot seems clean and shows no hesitation,’ Reid recited quickly.

     ‘If we take a closer look at how the bodies were disposed of, both women and men were stripped down to their underwear, but the kids were fully clothed. Could that be seen as a sign of remorse from the killer? Or should we say _killers_?’ you continued Reid’s train of thought. He nodded his head at you to let you know you were in the right track.

     ‘Most probably. It also says here that the fathers didn’t turn up for work and that the children were not taken to school on the day they are presumed to have disappeared?’ Rossi joined in.

     ‘Yes, and all of them had excellent assistance records: almost never missed a day at work or school. And the mothers were both described as being nice, charismatic and friendly by their neighbours. That’s where the similarities seem to end; although I’ll keep digging to see if there’s anything else.’

     ‘Thank you, Garcia. We need to move fast. Both families were killed within the last month and afterwards the parents’ rooms were found in complete disarray. The police are scared that this may escalate or that they’ll get copycats if the details are leaked, so the media _cannot_ get a hold of anything regarding this investigation. Wheels up in twenty.’

     Everybody began getting ready to leave, but you were stopped by a fierce hug from Penelope.

     ‘Congrats! I’m gonna miss you, though! Who’s gonna distract me from the horrible things I have to see in my computer screens?’ she was acting dramatic to make you feel guilty about leaving her.

     ‘I’m sorry, Penny. How about dinner when we come back? Also, you should know my mum called me this morning and will be coming soon, so you’ll get pretty sick of me when you come help with the house.’

     ‘Really? When is she coming?’

     ‘Don’t know the exact date yet. I need to let her know about this though, just in case she was planning on surprising me.’

     Reid came back into the conference room to retrieve his empty mug. He saw you chatting with Garcia and decided to just take yours as well. You purposefully changed places with her in the most discreet way possible so that she wouldn’t notice, since she was facing the door. You had a feeling JJ had seen your little exchange with Reid earlier, and you wouldn’t be able to take it if Penelope found out he was bringing you beverages. You had gone a whole month without anyone knowing he was buying you coffee, and no one needed to know that. It was your guys’ thing.

     ‘(Y/n)? Earth to (Y/n)? Are you here? You were staring at the door.’

     ‘Oh, dear, I’m so sorry. I was thinking that I need to go get my bag from my car in the parking lot,’ you felt bad about lying to her, but you couldn’t tell her, at least for now. ‘Sorry, Penny. I need to dash. Talk to you soon!’

     ‘Be safe and come back to me in one gorgeous piece!’

     You laughed your way down the stairs to the bullpen, and joined the team in front of the lift to go get your bag. You had hid it in the trunk when you went to get the coffees that morning so that Reid wouldn’t find out about your decision beforehand.

 

* * *

     Once inside the jet, you were in complete awe of everything.

     ‘Sweet ride, huh?’ Morgan smirked at you when he saw your face, but you could only nod at his comment.

     You had chosen a window seat, and he was sitting in front of you, next to Hotch, and Reid was at your side. _Well, damn_ –you thought–, _I didn’t want to sit next to him or JJ_. You didn’t want to sit next to him because you felt she was going to be watching your every move when you were near Reid; and you didn’t want to sit next to JJ because she might want to drop hints so as to get you talking about the mugs or that morning’s “something” and you couldn’t afford having the whole team know about... whatever it was that was happening. You sighed. It was going to be a long flight trying to find a way out of your seat.

     ‘You okay?’ Reid whispered as the jet took off.

     ‘Yeah, just a tad nervous about the case,’ well, you couldn’t tell _him_ what you were thinking about!

     ‘You’ll be fine. You know how it all works by now, you just haven’t seen it in person. This may be considered over sharing a bit, but during my first case I couldn’t stop go-‘

     ‘That _is_ over sharing, Reid. She doesn’t need to know the details about that,’ Hotch’s face was stern but his tone was playful.

     ‘Sorry,’ was Reid’s only response. You had to hide your smile by looking out of the window.

     After being told that it was safe to unbuckle your seatbelts, Rossi and JJ came around your seats to keep working on your theories. At the same time, you saw Penelope’s face appear in the computer on top of the table in front of you.

     ‘Sir, the Texas police just called saying that the M.E. is ready with the reports and will be expecting you when you land.’

     ‘Thanks, Garcia. Reid, you will go to see what the M.E. has to add to what we already know,’ Reid nodded at Hotch’s instructions.

     ‘We need to consider that this is the work of more than one person, like Grey‑Hart mentioned earlier,’ Rossi continued your argument from before.

     ‘It is most likely the work of a team, but we need to make sure first,’ Hotch directed his gaze towards you. ‘What made you think that? Besides the number of bodies.’

     ‘Well, we do need to confirm that their deaths were either simultaneous, or if some of the members of the family were made to watch how their loved ones were killed in front of their eyes to rule out sadism but...,’ you paused, trying to gather your thoughts, ‘what really made me think of a group, or that at least two people are involved in this, was not the number of bodies. It was more about how people get riled up when they are in a group. Riots and violence always escalate when people get together, and they’re much more likely to encourage such behaviour in others who may still be reluctant to act that way. Once someone gets involved in a group with other violent people, you just need _one_ member to plant the seed for the hatred to rule over their common sense.’

     ‘What should we do then? If this _is_ a hate crime, or someone is trying to stage it that way, the community will most probably be unwilling to talk to us. We have seen this before,’ JJ said a little upset.

     ‘We need to blend into the community as peacefully as possible. We should try to stay away from unnecessary disturbances. Grey‑Hart, since you’re fluent in Spanish, you’ll be our link with the community and spokesperson, should we need to release information to the press,’ you nodded, but felt how your stomach made a flip. ‘Rossi and Morgan, you two will go with her around the neighbourhoods of the victims to see if you can get some more information from the houses and the neighbours. JJ and I will set up at the police station. Garcia, you keep looking into these families and try to find a link.’

     ‘Roger that! I’ll call you when I find something,’ and with that she disconnected the call.

     ‘Reid, do you think you could start working on a geographical profile now?’

     ‘I should be able to have it done before we land.’

     ‘Okay. Everyone, get some rest before we get there. I have a feeling it’s going to be a tiring case.’

     Hotch and Rossi moved to the two seats closest to the bathroom and continued to talk about the case, while Morgan put on some headphones and tried to take a nap on one of the other seats at the back. JJ got up from the couch and went to talk to Will in the little kitchenette area behind the curtain that separated it from the main section of the jet.

     ‘Do you need any help with the geographical profile?’ you asked Reid, knowing he was fully capable of working on it by himself.

     ‘Um, sure. That way, it should be faster,’ his mouth seemed to be in a perpetual little smile despite the fact that you guys were probably dealing with a racist group that didn’t care about killing children.

     ‘Hey, Reid,’ you spoke after a few minutes of working in silence. ‘How do you...? I mean, how can you...? Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ you closed your eyes and took a breath before continuing, ‘how do you manage to compartmentalise?’

     ‘Do you mean every case, like in general? Or cases similar to this one?’

     ‘In general, I guess...,’ he didn’t seem convinced by your answer. ‘How do you erase the images of those kids’ dead bodies from your mind?’

     ‘Well, I have an eidetic memory, so I can’t really do that. But, you shouldn’t get fixated on that or you’re never going to be able to get past it and do what you’re supposed to do. Sorry, maybe you should ask JJ or the others for some better advice.’

     ‘I would, but one, JJ hasn’t come back yet. And two, I don’t want to upset her more than she already appears to be.’

     ‘You picked up on that too. You are perceptive, good for a profiler.’

     ‘I guess? I thought it was pretty obvious...’

     ‘And modest. You know, I’ve seen you talking to Garcia, and you pick up on her moods rather quickly too and adapt the conversation accordingly. You do the same thing with me. You know when to push someone and when not to, whether you need to change the topic, the mood, or if the person just needs silence.’

     ‘So, what I’m getting from this is that you _have_ been profiling me,’ you knew it was a lame answer, but you didn’t really know what to say to that little analysis. You had always done that: let the other person be the centre of attention in a way and lead the conversation to more comfortable topics for them to feel better if they were upset, funny if they were sad, etc.

     ‘Like I said yesterday, not exactly. I just...,’ he paused, thinking about how to phrase his next sentence, ‘I guess I wanted to do the same thing for you, since you’re always focusing on everyone else. I sort of wanted to be the person that made _you_ feel important in a conversation,’ he was still working on the map while he said this, but you stopped with the marker halfway through drawing a line that connected the place where the bodies of the first family had been found and their house.

     ‘Hey, guys, do you need any help?’ JJ came back after fifteen minutes of talking on the phone and sat in front of you.

     ‘No, we’re okay, I think. We could keep discussing the case, though, if you want,’ Reid said looking at both of you.

     ‘Please, let’s not do that for a while. Those poor kids...’ JJ said. ‘It broke my heart to see them like that. I really hate these kinds of cases.’

     The conversation continued on like that, inevitably followed by more theories and thoughts on how to handle the situation. As JJ used to be the press liaison, she started giving you tips, should you need them and, before you knew it, it was time to land in San Antonio, Texas. You didn’t have an opportunity to think about the weight of what Reid had told you. You needed to focus on the case, and the case alone.

 

* * *

     The houses, as Penelope’s preliminary research on the families, didn’t yield much, and the interactions with the neighbours were worse than you could have imagined. In spite of the fact that you spoke Spanish, you were still seen as a complete foreigner, and so your efforts in communicating with them in their native language weren’t as well received as you had hoped. Rossi and Morgan tried to cheer you up, saying that they got a little more than the police had, but you knew the truth. You went to the police station empty handed; at the same time, Reid came back from talking to the coroner.

     ‘Everyone, this is detective Bolton. He’s in charge of the investigation. These are Special Agents Rossi, Morgan, Grey‑Hart and Dr Reid,’ Hotch introduced all of you to the detective, and most of you shook hands with him, except for the doctor, who just waved as usual. ‘Reid, what did the M.E. said?’

     ‘Not much more than what we had already gotten from the pictures. What I did notice was some barely visible wounds in all of the victims’ wrists and ankles which would confirm our theory that they were tied for a prolonged period of time before being executed. The children clothes were dirty, but the doctor is still waiting for some tests from the lab to see if the stains can be tracked. She said she would call when she got the results.’

     ‘Okay, thank you,’ Hotch replied, turning towards you and the two men at your side. ‘Did you manage to get anything from the neighbours?’

     ‘Unfortunately, not much,’ you said, still a bit disappointed with yourself. ‘Just like JJ said, they were reluctant to talk to us, even when I switched to Spanish. That only made them seem more... fearful, since they couldn’t really talk among themselves without me hearing them.’

     ‘I think maybe you and JJ should try again tomorrow. Anything from the houses?’

     ‘We got the same impression from their houses as Garcia did from her own research: neat families, organised lives, all papers in order, both kids adapted well in school. Nothing that sticks out,’ now it was Morgan’s turn to sound frustrated.

     ‘Alright, tell Garcia to keep looking. Detective, the bodies were disposed of in the middle of the night. Are those roads still busy during that time? Are there any cameras in the area?’

     ‘They are still used, but mainly by truckers passing through. I don’t think you would get much from them. And to answer your second question, there is a gas station down the road from the first site that could have cameras.’

     ‘Isn’t there an ATM near the second site?’ Reid said looking at the map.

     ‘Yes, but it has been closed for a while. I’ll call the bank to see if the cameras are still working.’

     ‘Thank you, detective. In the meantime, Rossi and JJ, I want you to go to the area where the first family was found. Also check the gas station to see if anyone saw someone suspicious. Grey‑Hart and I will go to the second one. Morgan and Reid, you call Garcia and work with detective Bolton to try to find any group, club, church, _anything_ , that may be spreading hate messages in the area.’

 

* * *

     By the time you all came back, night had already fallen. The entire police department was working overtime, pressured by the authorities to catch whoever was doing this as quickly as possible. You truly hated it when politics got in the way. It just made it all even messier.

     ‘No working cameras in the gas station: the ones they have are fake. There were only two employees that night, and neither of them saw anything. We asked them to call us if they saw anyone remotely suspicious around,’ JJ announced after sitting down at the table in the room you had settled in at the station.

     ‘Grey‑Hart and I had similar luck. Nobody in the area saw anything, but Garcia is going through the footage from the ATM right now. She’ll let us know if she finds something.’

     ‘How about you? Any hate groups nearby?’ Rossi asked Morgan and Reid.

     ‘We found a few anti-immigrant groups that may be worth checking out,’ Morgan replied.

     After a couple more hours of looking into the Hispanic community along with some of the police officers who knew the areas more closely and researching more about the groups, the team was able to come up with a list of names.

     ‘Okay, since it’s late, we’ll stop here and go to the hotel. Tomorrow we’ll go through that list and interview as many members of these groups as we can. Grey‑Hart and JJ, you’ll speak with the neighbours and try to gain their trust again while Rossi, Morgan, Reid and I will split into two teams and go into the city to check on these people.’

     Everyone was exhausted after walking around all day, so you all nodded and followed Hotch out of the door. At the hotel, you found out that there were only three rooms available, which meant you would have to share. Reid and Morgan took one room, Hotch and Rossi, the other one, and you of course ended up with JJ. You liked her, but you were nervous about spending so much time with her after that morning.

     At night, it was so late that you both just collapsed and were out in an instant. When morning came, you took turns to shower, went down for a quick breakfast with the team and went straight to the SUV in silence. That is, until you were both inside.

     ‘So, should we go to the Hernández’s neighbourhood first? I think it’s closer from here,’ you proposed.

     ‘Yeah, we should. Do you think the people there are hiding something?’

     ‘They _all_ seemed to be on edge, really. But something in my gut tells me it was not because we were federal agents. That fear seemed to be there even before we got off because the moment they saw the black SUV, I saw women taking their children inside the houses, and the men standing in a sort of defensive way. Morgan decided to head into the house so that the people there didn’t feel as threatened by us, and I went to speak to them with Rossi. They relaxed when they saw our badges but got defensive again when we asked them about the families.’

     ‘Did it happen both times?’

     ‘It was a similar thing in both instances, yes.’

     ‘Okay, when we get there, we should approach the situation more cautiously. Maybe park the SUV a couple of blocks away and go on foot.’

     ‘I think that would be wise,’ you agreed with her.

     You were thankful for not putting your high‑heel boots on that morning. You predicted another exhausting day for your feet.

     ‘Hey, Grey‑Hart, I wanted to apologise for asking you about Reid yesterday. It wasn’t any of my business.’

     ‘Oh, please, JJ, it’s okay,’ you didn’t know what else to say. _Is she trying to ease her way into the topic?_ You were being particularly paranoiac about it.

     ‘It’s just... I didn’t want you to think that I was trying to pry on your guys’ relationship or anything.’

     ‘No, no, I didn’t think that at all. And besides, there’s nothing really to pry about. It was just me beating Reid at his own game. It was thanks to a technicality, but it still felt good.’

     ‘I now understand why he was looking at that door so intently. He was probably trying to find a way to take the win from you.’

     ‘Exactly. And he couldn’t. The best part about it, though? I used his own phrase against him!’ you continued talking, and she shared some stories about Reid on the way.

     You had completely forgotten about how nervous you had been and were thankful for the change of topic from the case. It helped you clear your mind.

     Once you parked, you walked to the location and avoided the Hernández’s home altogether. You went around the different houses, again, not getting much from the people there. You then reached the house of the elderly lady who hadn’t shied away from you as much as others had the previous day. She was sitting in her porch in front of a table with lots papers on top.

      _‘Señora Consuela, ¿cómo está?’_ JJ had advised you to start speaking Spanish right away; she knew some things and would be able to follow a bit, but she trusted you to let her know if anything important came up.

      _‘Bien, ¿y usted, agente?’_ you asked her how she was and she answered that she was fine, and she asked the same about you; although, again, you felt she wasn’t telling you something.

     You continued with the pleasantries and introduced JJ next.

      _‘Bien, gracias. Hoy vengo acompañada de la agente Jareau._ JJ, this is Mrs Consuela Ramírez. She has been living in this house for the past 35 years.’

‘It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Ramírez,’ JJ said, pretending to rely completely on you for a translation. However, you didn’t expect Consuela to interrupt before you could continue.

     ‘Nice to meet you as well,’ she answered with a thick accent. ‘What can I do for you today, agents? Have more... questions?’

     ‘We do, actually,’ you said slowly, looking over at JJ momentarily. ‘We were wondering if you remember anything from the day the Hernández family disappeared. Did they have any visitors before that? Did they seem nervous, perhaps, about anything?’

     ‘Look, you should pretend I’m refusing to tell you anything useful. You need to look frustrated or get angry even. But no one needs to know I helped you, understood? I have a grandson the same age Amanda was.’

     ‘Got it. But, shouldn’t we take this inside then?’ JJ asked her.

     ‘No, we need to be transparent about this. If we go inside, they will be suspicious and come look for me.’

     ‘Who are “they”?’ you asked this time.

     ‘We don’t know. All we know is that, once a week, a black SUV like yours but with no number plate comes in the middle of the night, and we are supposed to drop an envelope with money in front of our doors for them to collect.’

     ‘You have got to be kidding me! Grey‑Hart, this is pointless, we should just go,’ JJ was playing her part and started to walk towards the street to wait for you.

     ‘Wait, maybe I can ask her something else. Mrs Consuela, I’m begging you, is there anything you can tell us about the Hernández family? Maybe you could call us-’ you handed her your card.

     ‘NO!’ she yelled this time, hitting your hand and making the card fall on the ground.

     When you knelt down to retrieve it, you knocked over some of the papers on the table on purpose.

     ‘I’m _so_ sorry!’

 _‘¡Ay, pero, por favor! Ustedes sí que lo único que saben hacer es molestar...,’_ she was complaining in Spanish now, loudly, and knelt down as well, pretending to be angry at your clumsiness. She then whispered something to you: ‘The Hernández were honest people and wanted to give Amanda a good education, but that meant getting behind in some of their payments. That’s all I know.’

     ‘Thank you for your time, Mrs Consuela. We may be back with more questions,’ you finished once you got up.

      _‘Váyanse al diablo,’_ she told you to go to hell, still acting angry.

     You met JJ at the sidewalk and shook your head as if you had found out nothing important. You both looked at the rest of the neighbourhood, specifically at the faces you could see hiding behind closed curtains, and started to walk towards the SUV. You were both silent during the ride and went straight to the police station to tell the team about this new lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our Reader is finally all grown up and is going to help the team in the field! :) I hope you like the little case I thought of. It's going to be developed and closed in the next couple of chapters. So, expect a bit more talk and a few action sequences in the next ones.
> 
> Thank you for the love this story is getting! ^^
> 
> (The Spanish phrases are correct. If anyone is curious, I did not use any online translation tools since I'm a native speaker of Spanish.)


	10. Filthy foreigners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Triggers : Racism.**

_“When you mix dirt with water, the dirt doesn’t get clean. The water just gets dirty.”_

– Amanda Hocking

* * *

     The rest of the team was still out interviewing some of the members and leaders of those anti-immigrant groups Reid and Morgan had found the day before, so you decided to head back out and talk to the neighbours of the first victims, the Herrera family. Before doing so, you called Hotch to let him know about the black SUV mystery.

     When you two arrived at the neighbourhood, you proceeded in the same fashion: parked the car a few blocks away and went on foot. This time around, you didn’t get the same help as with Mrs Consuela; only terrified eyes looked back at you, refusing to answer anything about the family. _If they don’t want to answer our questions about the family, how can we even mention the black SUV?_ You stopped JJ by putting your hand in her shoulder.

     ‘How should we approach this? No one is talking here; they know what has happened to both families and are seriously scared.’

     ‘I know. I cannot think of a single thing to say to them that might not put them in more danger for talking to us.’

     ‘So, you’re suggesting we just go back to the police station?’ you knew that the more time you spent with these people, the more troubles they would have.

     ‘Yes, let’s head back and wait for the rest there,’ you both started heading back to the car.

     ‘Okay. I think we should call Penelope and ask her about the tape,’ you were trying to give as little information as possible, since you didn’t want anyone there to hear you had found out about the SUV. For all you knew, one of the people who controlled the whole scam could be part of the neighbourhood to avoid being detected.

     ‘I agree. Let’s hurry back.’

     Once you were back inside the car, JJ turned the vehicle around and started towards the police station. In the meantime, you called Penelope and asked her if she had been able to identify a black SUV with no number plate in the footage of the ATM. She said she was going to double check, but that she couldn’t remember seeing a vehicle like that.

     You hung up, worried that you may have ruined your chances of finding whoever was behind this. JJ tried to talk to you, but you just gave her monosyllabic answers. You reached your destination and were thankful that the rest of the team was already there.

     ‘Did you manage to get anything from the Herrera’s neighbours?’ Hotch asked you the minute you entered the room.

     ‘Nothing. They were as terrified as yesterday. We couldn’t find a way to bring up the topic of the SUV without putting them in even more danger.’

     ‘You two made a good decision, kid. Don’t look so beat up,’ Rossi said, putting his hand on your shoulder.

     You nodded, but still felt bad. Your mind kept going back to Consuela, sitting in her house all alone, fearing for the safety of her ten-year-old grandson.

     ‘We managed to narrow down our search to one specific group: they go by the name of “Walled-out,”’ Morgan said.

     ‘That’s a charming and explicit message,’ JJ commented.

     ‘They are one of the smallest groups from our list of members but somehow, they were the ones with the most ostentatious lifestyles, according to Garcia’s research,’ Reid started explaining. ‘Three of the names we got from the police records on disturbances and public violence towards Hispanics belong to this group.’

     ‘And when we went to talk to them, they seemed... _resentful_ , to say the least, towards all foreigners,’ Rossi added.

     ‘Yet, they have never been arrested for any of the crimes they have allegedly committed. The only records we’ve found of them were all warnings and fines. They seem to have a big enough influence here for the police to turn their backs and pretend there isn’t even a problem,’ Reid finished in a whisper.

     ‘So, we _are_ apparently dealing with a group of xenophobes,’ you concluded also in a low enough voice for the team to hear but not the officers outside. Hotch was about to say something when his cell phone rang.

     ‘Garcia, you’re on speaker.’

     ‘Sir, I checked the footage again, and (Y/n) and JJ’s info is _very much_ correct. I’m sending you the specific moments when you can see what appears to be a black SUV like the ones you drive entering the area where the bodies of the Hernández were found at 3.04 am. You can see the same vehicle speeding away from the scene in the same direction it came from at 3.10 am.’

     You all turned towards the tablets on top of the table and opened the video footage Penelope had sent you. And, even if it was only in black and white, there was indeed a dark SUV with no number plate in the scene of the crime. Hotch thanked Garcia, hung up and exited the room to go see the detective in charge.

     ‘Detective Bolton, have you or your officers ever seen this vehicle?’ Hotch went to ask him, making sure to close the door behind him and handed Bolton the tablet in his hand.

     ‘Not that I know of. I’ll ask around if you-’

     ‘No, that’s alright. Thank you, but I’ll have to ask you not to say anything to your officers. We don’t know all of the names of the people who belong to this group and we can’t risk them finding out, even if it is by accident.’

     Detective Bolton nodded reluctantly, aware that it was his only chance to catch these guys. Hotch came back and closed the door before addressing his team.

     ‘Detective Bolton hasn’t seen this car before and he has promised not to say anything. I think we should proceed with caution and pretend we are not aware of their activities outside of public displays of violence. We should still release part of our profile but leave the SUV part out. If this group is as elusive as it seems to be, we cannot afford to let them know that we’re onto them any more than the questions we asked them earlier today.’

     The team prepared what you all needed to say –and especially what you needed to _avoid_ mentioning– in front of the police. You were ready to give your first ever profile.

 

* * *

     You stood in front of the police department of San Antonio, Texas basically shaking. You had seen and heard the team giving the profile before and how their sentences just went perfectly with one another, how no comment was ever out of place. You _did not_ want to be the sore thumb that stuck out. Morgan saw you fidgeting and squeezed your shoulder trying to reassure you. You smiled gratefully at him, but the gesture was not enough to calm your nerves.

     You were all standing in a line right next to each other, waiting for all the officers to come in and get settled with their notebooks, pads and pens ready to write down what the “experts” had to say. _I may actually vomit_ , you thought. You tried to cover your mouth a little bit and started taking deep breaths as quietly as possible, but Rossi noticed. He came to stand next to you, even though he had been previously stationed next to Morgan at the other end of the line.

     ‘Breathe. We don’t want you having a panic attack, kid,’ he tried to make you feel better by joking but to no avail.

     ‘I’ve never had a panic attack in my life. I honestly hope this is not my first.’

     ‘Come on, you need to believe more in yourself. You’ve been contributing to this case, as with all of the others you’ve been in, including the Harvey Steele one. It was your major in college; you’re a natural at this,’ he gave you a lopsided smile.

     You felt your cheeks warming up a little and nodded your head to try to hide it.

     ‘Thank you,’ you answered sincerely, but then you noticed that he just turned to face the crowd of officers instead of going back to his original place. ‘Aren’t you going back to where you were?’

     ‘There was a draught over on that side.’

     ‘Alright then?’

     He continued to smile, until Hotch cleared his throat and called for everyone’s attention. The entire team’s demeanour changed; you even felt yourself standing up straighter.

     ‘This is a preliminary profile, which means that this is still a work in progress. The more evidence and information we gather may bring changes in the future; however, I’m sure you understand the gravity of the situation and the pressure we are _all_ under here, which is why we are choosing to release the profile even if it is not yet complete.’

     ‘We are dealing with a team of at least two people, with a clear message: we want these immigrants, whether they are legally here or not, out of our country,’ Morgan decided to go after Hotch. ‘This is, first and foremost, a hate crime.’

     ‘Which is why we should all proceed with extreme caution and try to be as supportive of these communities as possible, especially the Hispanic one, to avoid provoking any more attacks,’ JJ continued.

     ‘These people are not afraid to abduct their victims from crowded neighbourhoods in the middle of the night. This means that they have a vehicle that is big enough to transport two adults and one child around the city, as well as a place to hold them hostage where the victims are physically and, we believe, also psychologically tortured,’ you went next, proud of how steady your voice sounded, to your own ears at least.

     ‘Part of the psychological torture we believe the victims are being put through is watching their loved ones die in front of their eyes. We cannot say whether the order in which they kill their victims changes from family to family, but there is clear remorse about killing the children. This we can tell by the fact that they were all still clothed when they were executed, and there are no signs that they suffered a painful death, just one clean shot to the head. The parents, on the other hand, are the ones going through the most amount of pain; that with the women being suffocated with rope and the men being shot to death by inflicting as many non-lethal wounds as possible before actually killing them,’ Reid went on, followed then by Rossi.

     ‘This leads us to believe that they kill the children first, to inflict the largest amount of grief possible before they go for the parents. The houses are left intact, except for the parents’ rooms, which were both ransacked. That’s why they are killing these families: they are looking for something that the adults probably refused to give up. The children are just their way to get to the parents and considered collateral damage by the killers.’

     ‘This team is led by sadists who take pleasure in inflicting pain on these families; the ones who actually abduct and transport the victims are probably just working for them and could even be part of the communities themselves, which means whoever is “hiring” them is making them do these things out of fear of becoming possible targets. The leaders most likely believe that these families owe them something, or that they do not even belong in American soil and need to be either put to work or, as we have seen, eliminated when they do not comply with their terms,’ it was JJ’s turn again.

     ‘We cannot be sure that these families were the last or even their only victims so far; once they find another family they believe owe them whatever it is they are looking for, they will strike again. The way they operate is sophisticated and quick. We need to be faster and try to predict where or who they will attack next. Whichever information you can gain from the communities is welcome, but remember to approach them cautiously; these people are afraid and won’t be willing to cooperate if they fear they could be the next target. Please come to us if you have any questions on how to go about this. Thank you,’ Hotch wrapped up the profile.

     You released the breath you had been holding and felt ready to collapse onto your hotel bed but, you knew you were probably going to pull an all-nighter. You all needed to put this case behind you, and fast, before anyone else got hurt in the process.

 

* * *

     ‘Thank you, doctor. That’s actually extremely helpful,’ Reid said into his phone before turning to meet the tired and expectant eyes of his teammates. It was 3 am on Sunday, and so far, there had been no news, neither good nor bad. ‘That was the M.E.; she just got the results back from the lab on the kids’ clothes. There were traces of vegetation: _typha_ , or common bulrushes, a plant that typically grows near water, which doesn’t help us to find a specific location. And there were also residues of mud, which, she said, _could_ be from the San Antonio River, but she doesn’t have the results on that yet.’

     ‘Okay, that’s something at least,’ Rossi chimed in.

     ‘I don’t mean to be pessimistic, but isn’t that river _really_ long?’ JJ asked, her chin propped up on the round table.

     ‘240 miles,’ you and Reid said in unison. Not only did Reid look at you in surprise –and smiled–, but all eyes were on you.

     ‘What? I read it on the map while I was helping Reid draw the geographical profile on the way here.’

     No one said anything and they all turned their heads back to the doctor, who continued explaining.

     ‘The river originates in central Texas in a cluster of springs in Midtown San Antonio, approximately four miles north of Downtown, and follows a roughly south eastern path through the state. In those 240 miles, it crosses five counties: Bexar, Goliad, Karnes, Refugio and Wilson,’ he said each new piece of information while pointing at the map.

     You grabbed your phone and speed dialled Penelope, who answered after three missed calls, her voice scratchy from sleep.

     ‘Penny, you okay there?’

     ‘Yes, darling, the phone ringing startled me, that’s all. I’m here now, what do you need?’ she was trying to keep her eyes open, ready to type at your command.

     ‘Can you look for any abandoned buildings along or near the San Antonio River?’ you asked her.

     ‘I’m gonna need more than that to narrow this one down.’

     ‘Stay within the Bexar County.’

     ‘I’d suggest avoiding the River Walk area completely; it would be too risky to hold three hostages there,’ Reid provided.

     ‘A bit more,’ she said.

     You got up and took another look at the map, Reid doing the same as you. You were racking your brains, his at a much faster pace than yours, for sure. Everyone was silent in the room; the only sound you could hear was made by Penelope’s nails against the keyboard.

     ‘Penelope, focus on the biggest bodies of water south of the region. Anything near _Lago Calaveras?’_ you suggested.

      _‘Ay_ , I love it when you speak Spanish to me. There are only a handful of ranches in that area. Nothing that appears abandoned.’

     ‘Baby girl, do any of those belong to members of Walled-out?’ Morgan asked her.

     ‘Oh, you have the looks and the brains! Listen to this: there are four members that are known to be the “founding fathers” of that horrible group you talked to today... no, wait, yesterday.’

     ‘Who is the nearest to the Lake?’ Hotch finally spoke.

     ‘Walter Powell, an uprising rancher in the area. Known to have – _whoa_ – publicly claimed that, and I quote, _“any and all foreigners are like dirt to me; all they do is bring filth and disgrace to our country”._ I mean, what a load of-’

     ‘Garcia,’ interrupted Hotch, ‘do you have an address?’

     ‘I’ve just sent all four members’ addresses to your phones, sir!’

     ‘Thank you,’ Hotch said. ‘Please, stay on the line.’

     ‘Was this guy in yesterday’s list?’ JJ asked coming to stand in front of the board, where it was pinned.

     ‘No. And he wasn’t in any of the police records we went through, either,’ Rossi answered, also getting up from his seat.

     ‘Could he be the puppeteer behind all this?’ you asked next.

     ‘If he is then, would he be stupid enough to murder all of these people in his own property?’ Morgan continued.

     ‘Probably not,’ Reid answered, looking at the map again. ‘These ranches go for acres, and if he’s avoided bringing any attention to himself, other than insulting all foreigners alike, then he’s probably convinced someone else to use their property to do this or he has another secret location under a fake name. Garcia, could-’

     ‘Already on it! Give me a few.’

     ‘I’ll bring Detective Bolton in,’ Hotch said as he left. He returned a minute later with Bolton behind him, his tie loose around his neck and scruff on his face; the guy looked like hell.

     The team updated him on what they had found, and he seemed to really wake up when Reid mentioned Powell’s name.

     ‘Powell, as in Walter Powell? You serious?’

     ‘Do you know him personally, detective?’ Hotch asked warily.

     ‘Not personally, but he’s one of the biggest investors here. I’m sure you already know his thoughts on foreigners,’ Bolton directed his sympathetic eyes briefly towards you and continued, ‘but he’s never crossed that line.’

     ‘Does he go by any nicknames?’ you asked him.

     ‘I’ve heard people referring to him as “Bull Red”, which is another name for the Red Drum, one of the fish species you can find in Lake Calaveras.’

     ‘That’s gotta be it,’ Morgan said. ‘Baby girl, did you hear that?’

     ‘Loud and clear, sexy. Bingo! Here it is: a secluded property towards the north of the lake. Already sent you the new address.’

     ‘We’ll have to navigate through some sketchy terrain to get there. I’ll gather my me-’ Bolton started, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

     ‘I’m sorry, sir, but there’s been another abduction.’

     ‘Which family is it this time?’ Hotch asked the young officer.

     ‘The Ramírez family: father, Luis; grandmother, Consuela; son and grandchild, Manuel,’ he read the names monotonously, but it was like he was screaming them in the middle of the night.

     You grabbed the back of the chair in front of you so hard, your knuckles turned white. JJ came to stand next to you and put her arm around your shoulders. You realised what you were doing and released the chair immediately. Reid was eyeing you, ready to jump in if he saw your knees falter. You decided to speak instead of letting fear control you.

     ‘She was the witness that told us about the SUV that comes to collect money around Hispanic neighbourhoods.’

     ‘If they saw you interact with her, and then we turned up at their doorstep asking questions...,’ Rossi started.

     ‘We are running out of time. Do we know when this happened?’ Bolton turned to the officer still at the door.

     ‘About ten minutes ago. A neighbour called saying he was coming back from work when he saw a black vehicle with no number plate leaving the Ramírez residence at top speed. He didn’t dare enter the house in case some of them were still there so he called us.’

     ‘Send a few cars there, and tell them to approach carefully. They _could_ still be there; we cannot afford any more victims. Any person found around the area is to be brought in for questioning, understood?’ Bolton said it all in one breath.

     ‘Yes, sir!’ the officer said and left to fulfil the detective’s orders.

     ‘In the meantime, we’ll get ready and head straight to Powell’s secondary property. Garcia, we’ll call you from the car!’ it was Hotch’s turn to lead now.

     You all practically run to the changing rooms to get into your vests. You double checked your rounds, holstered your gun and got into the back seat of the first SUV that came into view. JJ was at the wheel, with Reid in the passenger’s seat. That meant Hotch, Morgan and Rossi were in the other vehicle in front of you, following Bolton and his men closely. Only the ambulances were behind you.

     ‘Deep breaths, Grey‑Hart. I know what you’re thinking, and this was not your fault.’

     ‘How can you say that, JJ? She was the only one willing to help us, and my stubbornness got her and her family into this.’

     ‘We were trying to do our job, to _protect_ them,’ her eyes glanced at you through the rear-view mirror.

     ‘All you can do now is focus on getting them out of there,’ Reid said, turning in his seat to look at you.

     ‘Blaming myself will only get me in danger, or _worse_ , you guys or them hurt, I know,’ you sighed. Your inexperience in the field and the fact that you wore your heart in your sleeve were not helping you think clearly.

     ‘Your safety’s as important as everyone else’s, remember that,’ he told you, a serious expression on his face, before turning back around to help JJ navigate through the dark roads.

     It reminded you of the conversation you two had had on the plane: _“you’re always focusing on everyone else”._ You sighed again; he was absolutely right.

     None of you spoke, other than to answer Hotch, who had Garcia put you all in the same call. You remained silent, trying to absorb everything Penelope, Reid and Bolton were saying about the area. When you arrived, you got divided into two teams: Hotch, Morgan, Rossi, Bolton and a few officers were to take the front of the property, leaving you, JJ, Reid and the rest of the officers to try to find a way in from the back.

     All you could see was thanks to the moon high in the sky –there were almost no clouds–, but the wind and dirt around the area made it difficult to keep your eyes opened for too long, even if you were wearing glasses. You were following the tracks of what you presumed was the SUV along a barn‑like building with no windows. You rounded a corner and saw the vehicle parked there. You all approached it silently, but there was no sign of anyone being still inside.

     You continued on, towards a smaller building with only a door at the front. JJ tried to look through the keyhole, only to be met by darkness. She shook her head and went to the left of the building followed by two officers; you moved past her towards the right, Reid and the other officer behind you. There was a small, filthy looking window there. You held up your hand and your companions stopped advancing.

     You were lucky: inside you could see a small child with his hands and legs tied and with a piece of cloth covering his eyes and another around his mouth. _The kid_ , you mouthed to Reid. He nodded and took your place next to the window once you crouched and moved to take a look from the other side. From your new position you were able to see a door. It was ajar, and a faint light was suddenly turned on and was now coming through the small space. You saw movement but nothing that could confirm whether the adults were still alive.

     JJ came round the back of the building and met with you guys next to the window. The only way in was through the front door, which meant you would be face to face with whoever was inside. You exchanged a few hushed words and decided that four of you –Reid, JJ, one of the officers and you– were to enter through the front of the building, while the remaining two officers were to break in through the window to rescue the child.

     Once you were all in position at the front, and the officer kicked the door in, you were met with Bull Red himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the delay! I wasn't at home with my computer and I didn't have access to the latest version of this chapter. I'll make sure to have them updated on my drive from now on.
> 
> Again, I'm really sorry. I hope you enjoyed it anyway! Feedback on these case-centred chapters is greatly appreciated :)
> 
> PS/Disclaimer: I researched and used lots of maps to write this part but I went with my imagination when it came to the ranches part. I have no idea who lives there, what social status they have, or what position they have on these topics, etc.


	11. Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Triggers : Racism.**

_“Everybody is as unstable as water.”_

– Joseph Heller

* * *

     Despite the wind, you could feel the cold sweat in your skin: you felt too hot in your vest. Your shoulders were tense and as still as you were able to keep them. Your gun was trained on the UnSub, who had his own gun directed at Consuela, sitting next to him and bleeding a little, but his eyes were on the four of you standing outside the door.

     One by one, and very slowly, you three went inside and the officer stayed outside at the back, making sure you were not ambushed. You could see several wounds on Consuela’s skin –Powell had probably beaten her–, but the father of the child was nowhere to be seen.

     ‘FBI! Walter Powell, drop your weapon and let these people go,’ JJ said in an authoritative voice from the middle of the room.

      _‘People?_ You can’t have referred to this... this _animal_ as a person... she isn’t like _us_ ,’ the UnSub started his speech, pointing between his body and JJ’s with his free hand. ‘She is a filthy little animal who came to destroy whatever little we have here! To destroy our schools and corrupt our children’s education!’

     ‘Consuela has done none of those things. She’s Mexican, but that is _most certainly_ not a crime. She came here _legally_ and has stayed close to her family to take care of them,’ you said, angry at his words. Your accent did not go unnoticed.

     ‘A _Brit,_ I see,’ his tone was clearly derogatory. ‘Coming to take our jobs too because no one in your country wanted to hire you either?’

     ‘I was born in American soil, just like you, Walter,’ was all you said in response. You wouldn’t let this guy get under your skin, and your dual nationality was not something you were ashamed of, quite the contrary actually. ‘Now, why don’t you let Consuela go, and we can talk about this back at the police station?’

     ‘Why would I do that? I haven’t done anything wrong.’

     ‘Then, drop the weapon and come with us so that we can put an end to this misunderstanding peacefully,’ Reid tried to reason with him.

     ‘Actually, I’d like you to leave; you have no right to come into my property at almost five in the morning and expect me to go with you.’

     ‘We cannot do that, Walter, especially while you’re holding a gun to her head,’ you tried again.

     ‘It’s her fault for trying to ruin what has taken me years to build! She thought she could get away from me! I found them packing their few belongings, ready to go back to their country, instead of paying what they _clearly_ owe me.’

     ‘What do they owe you for staying here?’ JJ asked this time.

     ‘Money! If they think they can just come to our country, use our resources, fill our schools and take our jobs, they have another thought coming! They either have to pay us or go back!’

     That’s when you heard the window being broken, followed by the child’s scared murmurs, and the officers trying to reassure him while taking him safely to the ambulances parked at the front. You were running out of time: Consuela’s breathing was becoming shallower, and Powell had heard the disturbance coming from the next room, too. You did the only thing you could think of to distract him.

      _‘Consuela, piense en Luis y Manuel. Respire, por favor,’_ you spoke in Spanish, hoping she’ll hear you, since you were closer to her. You asked her to think of her son and grandson, pleading her to breathe.

     ‘You speak her language?’ he said calmly. His gun was suddenly pointed at you.

     ‘Yes, I do,’ you answered in the same calm manner. Reid and JJ looked at each other briefly, fearing the outcome of your decision.

     ‘The child is safe, Walter,’ Reid said before Morgan came into the room as well and nodded his head. ‘Luis has been rescued too so just let her go, and we can leave all this behind us. She was probably fleeing for another reason, not because she didn’t want to pay what she owed you. If you come with us, we’ll be able to solve this, I’m sure.’

     ‘I’m sorry, agent, but I’m afraid I can’t do that. I _need_ to finish what I set out to do,’ his gun went back to being directed at Consuela.

     You heard a click rather than see him about to shoot her, and your instincts kicked in. You managed to shoot him first, and the bullet went through his shoulder, making him drop the gun and kneel down. Reid kicked the gun out of the way while Morgan handcuffed the UnSub and took him out. You knelt down next to Consuela, trying to keep her awake, and JJ went to call for an ambulance and check on the child.

     Once Consuela was safe inside the ambulance, you saw Manuel hugging Luis; the two of them were later taken to the hospital by the police to see her, since the other ambulance was occupied by Powell himself. Then, Morgan told you they had found Luis and several of Powell’s buddies inside of the first building. They let themselves be arrested peacefully, unlike Powell, because they knew there was no way out of this one since they had been punching Luis in the ground when they entered the first building.

     You were sitting inside one of the SUVs, with your head resting on your hands and the door on your right open when Hotch approached you.

     ‘That was a good shot. Are you alright?’

     ‘Thank you, sir,’ you told him, looking up. ‘Honestly? I’m not sure. I still feel incredibly guilty for having put them through all of this in the first place.’

     ‘You shouldn’t. According to the records we found in the back office of the building, the Ramírez family owed Powell money. They were struggling to pay for Manuel’s school.’

     ‘So, Consuela told me because she feared they might get to her before we found them.’

     ‘Looks that way. Despite her reason, she helped us get to them, even if it meant drawing attention to herself.’

     ‘Yes. She is brave.’

     ‘And you are, too,’ you looked at him surprised. ‘JJ told me how you acted back there. You’re getting better at handling the UnSubs, but you should be more careful when you’re in such close proximity and you don’t have the upper hand,’ his tone seemed concerned.

     ‘I will, sir.’

 

* * *

     Everyone returned to the police station to finish packing up, and you received a teary call from Consuela and her family, thanking you and the team for saving them. You told her to call you whenever she wanted, even if it was only to chat. When you were on the jet, you tried sleeping, but it was impossible to find a comfortable position so you just plugged your earphones and got lost in the wonderful world of music.

     Reid was sitting next to you and he tapped your shoulder when you were about halfway through your journey back home. You had been staring at the sky the whole time, glancing occasionally at him. It was incredible to see him read so many words at such a fast pace, especially knowing that he could recite them whenever he wanted.

     ‘Hey, sorry,’ he whispered to you since everyone was trying to sleep. He had been reading, but you realised he had been looking at the same page for a while before he talked to you.

     ‘No worries. Is my music too loud?’

     ‘No, no. I just...’ he paused and you waited patiently for him to continue. ‘I just wanted to ask you why you’re not sleeping like the rest.’

     ‘I could ask you the same thing, Reid,’ you answered with a half smile.

     ‘Yes, you’re right,’ he laughed a little. ‘I can’t really sleep on these seats, that’s why I always choose the couch but, Morgan called dibs before I was able to,’ he was eyeing said couch longingly.

     ‘I can’t get into a comfy position to actually rest either, so I just opted for music,’ you shrugged; the only thought going through your mind was getting into your bed. You sighed.

     ‘Is that the only reason?’ you needed to stop sighing in front of him. He picked up on it, _every time_.

     ‘My mind keeps going back to Powell and his madness. Bolton told Hotch earlier the doctors had to sedate him and the police were still unable to get him to talk.’

     ‘Even if he refuses to admit his crimes, the gun he had was the one used in the two previous murders so, they’re all going to jail for a long time.’

     ‘But probably not forever. What if he gets out and continues with his “mission” then?’

     ‘Then, you and I will catch ‘em again,’ he concluded looking at you in the eye. He saw you narrowing your eyes at him. ‘What? We all know these guys are getting too old for this job already, you and I are the youngest here.’

     You laughed a little at his joke, but you couldn’t deny the butterflies that appeared in your stomach again.

     ‘Do you want some coffee? We still have at least an hour of flying and then _you_ need to drive _us_ home. I will _not_ have you falling asleep at the wheel.’

     ‘Oh, so you only pretend to care about my well-being, but it is actually all about you, huh? I’m hurt,’ you smirked as he got up.

     He then turned around and lowered his head towards you, grabbing the back of his seat with one hand and the edge of the table with the other for support. His face was only a few inches from yours as he spoke in an extremely low voice:

     ‘Of course not, Grey‑Hart. Like I said, your safety is as important as everyone else’s,’ and with that, he left you alone in your seat.

     It was a good thing everyone was sleeping, especially JJ, who was sitting in front of you. Even if she woke up just then, she had covered her face with a blanket and would be unable to see the soft pink in your cheeks. You composed yourself before Reid came back, with two steaming cups of coffee and a smile. You thanked him and asked him if he wanted to listen to music with you. He accepted, so you switched to an instrumental folder instead. He saw you doing it and was about to say something when you told him:

      _‘You_ also focus too much on everyone else. And besides, it’s not like I don’t like this music. I’m just switching because I know you will enjoy it more than whatever song I was listening to before. It’s the same as when we are in the car, so shush, alright?’

     ‘Fine... _meanie.’_

     You stuck your tongue out like a mature adult, and you both started giggling at your behaviour. It was stupid, “fighting” over who got to be the centre of attention when you were both just so used to relinquishing that spot for the sake of others. After your coffee, you relaxed into your seat and waited for the descent. You were anxious to get home and sleep, but you were already dreading the paperwork that would come with it.

     It was way past noon when you landed. Before you left the office, however, Hotch gave you some good news: since the case had taken most of your weekend, you had been cleared to take both Monday _and_ Tuesday off. You and Reid left with a big pile of paperwork but with bright smiles nonetheless.

 

* * *

     You spent the rest of your Sunday slowly writing reports. You wanted to go to sleep but, you knew that if you did that, you would be up all night and your whole sleeping schedule would get messed up. The fact that you were also checking your phone every five minutes didn’t help your progress, either. Your mum had sent you a message earlier telling you she was landing on Monday morning, implicitly asking you to pick her up, but she was either too busy to answer her phone or she was already flying. You would have to go to bed and wake up way too early for it to feel like a day off.

     So, at 7.30 pm, you had a quick dinner and went straight to bed. The next day, your alarm woke you up at 4.30. You blindly made your way to the bathroom to shower –hitting _every_ piece of furniture in your path, including the foot of the bed– and got ready. By 5.15, you had already finished your cup of tea and were putting on your running shoes and jacket to drive to the airport.

     You closed your door quietly so as not to wake Reid up, but he must’ve heard you in the shower or bumping into your furniture because he opened his door, still in his pyjamas and house robe.

     ‘Grey‑Hart, are you okay?’ he had only one eye open.

     ‘Morning, Reid. I’m fine, go back to sleep,’ you patted him on the shoulder and went to go down the stairs.

     ‘Are you going jogging or something?’ he asked you; he probably thought that from your sports attire.

     ‘No, I’m just going to pick up my mum. She lands in about an hour and a half, and I want to have coffee in my system before the encounter.’

     ‘Oh, want me to go with you?’ he seemed more awake now, and opened his eye a little wider once he realised what he had said.

     ‘Nah, that’s okay. Sorry I woke you up, though.’

     ‘Don’t worry about it. Let me know if you need any help with... the house later.’

     ‘Thank you, Reid,’ you looked down at your running shoes; this was bad, it was freaking 5 in the morning and you were already getting emotional. ‘Anyway, I need to get going or I’m going to be late. Talk to you later!’

     ‘Bye,’ was all he said to your retreating form.

     He went back into his flat, still tired but feeling more awake. Truth be told, you had been quiet, but, since he had been turning all night, he had heard you and that’s why he had opened the door to check on you. He kept repeating to himself that it was what he would have done for anyone else but, he couldn’t remember any instances in which he had left his flat still clad in his pyjamas to check on a neighbour. He told himself it was just because you were also one of his teammates and went back to bed. He could definitely use a few more hours of sleep if you asked for his help later.

 

* * *

     You made it to the airport fairly quickly and, true to yourself, bought a small cup of coffee to keep you busy until your mum arrived. You were probably going to have breakfast with her, so it was pointless to go for anything else other than the coffee. You saw her flight had landed and waited for her with a little sign that read “ _Grey‑Hart’s chauffeur_ ” on it. It was all you could come up with at 6 am. Your sense of humour usually kicked in at around 8 or 9, provided you had had a good amount of caffeine running through your system already. You needed to replace it with something else, or you would regret being unable to drink the stuff later on in life.

 _I’m mentally rambling_ , you thought. You had to shake your head to clear it and that was the first thing your mother and Aunt Victoria saw.

     ‘Mum! Auntie?! What are you doing here?’ you hugged each of them, and your mother took the sign from your hands, laughing lightly at it.

     ‘An aunt can’t come to see her favourite niece without getting questioned?’

     ‘Auntie, I’m your _only_ niece,’ you shoot her a fake death glare, to which she just shrugged.

     ‘What can I say? You won me over.’

     The three of you went to baggage reclaim and decided to drop everything in your flat before going for breakfast at the coffee shop you went to before your first day as a member of the BAU. Even though you drank coffee from there every day, you actually didn’t enter the place all that much anymore, thanks to Reid’s way of “repayment” for the free rides.

     You gave them a short tour of your flat when you arrived and they both congratulated you on the purchase. Your mum had been so busy with your father’s health situation that she hadn’t even gone with you to see the flat two months ago. You knew she still felt a bit guilty about “neglecting” you, but you always dismissed her comments, trying to make her see that you would never hold that against her. She had enough on her plate as it was.

     You chatted with them the entire time: hearing your mum’s stories about babysitting your cousin Dylan and some of his friends, your aunt’s stories about her job at Cambridge and her husband Michael and his new job at a bank. It seemed your mum was having fun being around kids again.

     ‘I’ve been thinking of maybe teaching again. Not at a school, but maybe tutoring the kids around the neighbourhood,’ she told you over breakfast.

     ‘That’s great, mum! I think you’d be incredible at it, I mean, you had enough practice with me, right?’ you smiled genuinely at her.

     ‘Beatrice! How dare you not tell me about that?’ your aunt responded dramatically; she loved teasing her elder sister and, consequently, you too. ‘I opened my home to you and your daughter and this is how you repay me? By keeping secrets?’ she even put her hand against her forehead.

     ‘Victoria, please, calm down! You’re drawing attention to our table,’ your mum responded, and it was true: people were staring.

     ‘I’m sorry,’ she said with a smile and kept drinking her coffee like nothing had happened. You sighed; your aunt could be more of a child than you sometimes.

     The conversation continued on. They asked you all about your new job, your co-workers, the cases; they wanted the whole recap, and you happily obliged. You told them everything, except for the details regarding the cases, since you couldn’t actually share that. It had been a month since you had last seen them and you were sure going to make the most of your time with them, for as long as they stayed in the US. Your mum was still hesitant about moving to London permanently, no matter how happy she seemed about her decision to maybe start on that tutoring business. She had suffered greatly when you had moved to the UK with your aunt to study at 16. You knew it would be tough, but technology could help maintain the relationship as intact as possible just like you had done throughout this first month.

     Once you left the coffee shop, you went back to your flat and your guests decided to sleep for a while. You told them to take your bed and you stayed in the living room, finishing up the last pieces of your paperwork. You were in the middle of the recount on how you had arrested the UnSub, when you received a text from Penelope.

_“How are you, my gorgeous friend? Has your mum landed? Do you need any help?”_

_Oh, lovely Penelope_. You had sent her a quick message from the car on your way to the airport. She must have slept through it. You decided to go to the hallway and call her directly. You left your door ajar so that you didn’t have to take your keys with you.

     ‘Hey, Penny!’

     ‘Hi, (Y/n)! How’s life?’ she answered with her usual cheerful voice.

     ‘It’s alright. How are you?’

     ‘Great. Are you with your mum?’

     ‘Yes, she and my aunt Victoria, her sister, are here. They are taking a nap, so I don’t really know about our plans just yet.’

     ‘Oh, okay, I just wanted to make sure. I’ll try and stay at home in case you need me!’

     ‘Please, Penny, you don’t have to! I appreciate it, really, but don’t cancel your social life for me. Do whatever you need to do.’

     ‘You know I’ll ignore you, but thank you for trying.’

     ‘Ugh, I know. Thank you! Anyway, I need to finish that damn paperwork.’

     ‘Okay, let me know if anything changes! Bye!’

     ‘Thank you again! Bye, Penny!’

     You shook your head as you thought: _what a stubborn human being_. You were about to go into your flat again, when a voice startled you.

     ‘Morning, Grey‑Hart,’ said Reid, and you felt your shoulders tense up. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry!’

     ‘It’s okay,’ you answered as you turned around. He was now dressed in brown trousers and a blue button-down shirt underneath his coat, and seemed to have showered recently, you noticed, since his hair was still kind of wet and the smell of his cologne hit your nose immediately.

     ‘Is your mum here?’

     ‘Yes. She, my aunt and I went to have breakfast earlier and now they are sleeping. I was trying to finish my paperwork when Penelope messaged me. I came out here to talk so as not to wake them up.’

     ‘I see. Do you need any help with your report? I finished mine already.’

     ‘Oh, no, don’t worry. I can handle it; I just need to sit down and focus,’ you put on a determined expression, to which he laughed a little. ‘Are you going somewhere?’ you said pointing at his messenger bag.

     ‘I am gonna visit the book store to see if my last order arrived. I’ve been meaning to read more Russian authors but you’d be surprised at how hard it is to get a hold of their work in the original language sometimes.’

     ‘I can only imagine,’ you shook your head again as you smiled; this guy managed to surprise you every day.

     ‘Anyway, let me know if you need any help today. I’ll be back in a while,’ he told you as he approached the stairs.

     ‘I will. Thank you and good luck on your search!’

     After he left, you went back inside and found your aunt sitting at the table, casually reading your files.

     ‘Auntie!’ you whispered surprised and took them from her hands; good thing you had closed your laptop before you went to call Penelope. ‘That’s confidential! You can’t read them.’

     ‘Oh, please, I won’t tell a soul! Okay, maybe your uncle, but that’s it!’

     ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t let you read the rest.’

     ‘I know,’ she conceded and got up to make some tea. After a couple of minutes of you two being in silence, she asked what she really wanted to know. _‘So,_ you’re friends with the neighbour?’

     ‘What?’ you looked up from your screen; you had been so engrossed in typing your report you hadn’t paid attention to her.

     ‘The tall bloke you were talking to earlier? I heard you two speaking when I was coming out of the bathroom. He seems nice,’ she smiled as she put a hot cup of tea next to your hand.

     ‘He is. His name is Spencer Reid; he’s one of my co-workers.’

     ‘Ah, the doctor, right?’ you nodded. ‘And he offered to help you. What a sweetheart!’

     ‘Yes, he and the tech analyst, Penelope, both offered to help me out with the house. I still have to ask mum if she’s okay with letting a bunch of strangers into-’

     ‘It’s alright, dear,’ your mum said from the little hallway that lead to the bathroom, your little laundry room and bedroom.

     ‘Are you sure, mum?’

     ‘Of course. You still have tomorrow off, if I remember correctly from what you said earlier, so ask them to come tomorrow morning. Today I’d prefer it if it is just the family in the house.’

     ‘Alright. I will, mum,’ you smiled at her and went back to your report, as she sat down in front of your aunt to chat.

     You were only a couple of lines away from completing it, so you ignored them for about half an hour. When you were done, you saved the file in your pen drive to print later in the house –since you didn’t have a printer of your own yet–, and after a late lunch, the three of you got into your car and drove to your destination, ready to tackle the exhausting task of sending away most of your father’s entire life of possessions.


	12. Boxes of crumbled memories

_“Cry. Forgive. Learn. Move on. Let your tears water the seeds of your future happiness.”_

– Steve Maraboli

* * *

     To say it was exhausting was an understatement. The moment you and your mum walked into the house, you two began crying. It took your aunt’s undeterred coaxing to get you to leave the couch and actually start on your task.

     You had brought boxes with you and went to look for more in the basement, while your mum and aunt started selecting things from the upper floor. There were clothes, shoes, ties, hats and watches to sort through; pieces of furniture that you needed to decide whether to keep or not; books, an endless pile of books that you couldn’t possibly take with you but that you didn’t specifically want to leave there gathering dust.

     But it wasn’t that aspect of the whole thing that was taxing; it was the little pieces that you found among the big ones that got to you: the little black notebook on the desk downstairs; the letters and post-it notes your dad would leave for your mum and you to find around the house and that the two of you kept; the albums filled with pictures; your dad’s awards and achievements that were hanging on one of the walls in the living room. Those were the things you couldn’t get rid of because they made your dad _him_ , Anthony Hart. Your mum decided to put all of those in a box and to keep them in the closet upstairs for when you two were ready to get to them.

     The clothes, shoes and the like were to be given all to charity, so you spent the entire afternoon putting everything into bags and boxes, which you would take to different organizations later. However, by the time you finished, the clock signalled 7 pm, and you still hadn’t made up your mind on the furniture.

     ‘I don’t know what to do, mum. They were all your and dad’s things, you should be the one deciding.’

     ‘And I have. It’s all yours if you need them, dear. It’s good to be independent, but don’t let pride get the better of you. Take whatever you need, and leave the rest here if you want. I’m certainly not going to need it if I move to London with your aunt.’

     ‘But what if you want to stay in the US for a while? Either for the summer or longer?’

     ‘I’ll figure something out. I can’t stay _here_ ,’ she said with a wobbly voice, putting an end to the discussion.

     You sighed and looked at your aunt for help, but she just shrugged and continued putting decorations and little ornaments you mum wanted to take with her in a box.

     ‘I think we’ve done enough for one day. Should we go and have dinner?’ your mum asked while she looked out of the window, her eyes fixed on the sunset. You had opened all of the blinds earlier so that you could get rid of the smell of a house that hadn’t been lived in for two months.

     ‘Yes, we’ll start early tomorrow and try to finish,’ you knew it was her own way to make peace with you, so you approached her and put your arm around her shoulders, to which she responded by putting her own arm around your waist.

     You stood there for a while, until your aunt put a hand on your mum’s shoulder. You locked up the house and left to grab something to eat. You returned to your flat and argued with them for a while about who would take the bed and who would sleep in the living room. You ended up winning and took the couch that night.

     You were the last one to shower, after they both went to bed, and decided to message Penelope to let her know about your plans for the next day. She responded immediately and told you she would try to bring Savannah and Morgan to help out. Now, that left you with Reid. Despite the fact that you were in your pyjamas and slippers, you made your way to his front door and knocked.

     He answered immediately and smiled at your clothes before he greeted you.

     ‘Hi, you didn’t call me, did you? I forgot my phone here and I spent a lot more time in the book store than I had originally intended, so I wasn’t sure if-’

     ‘Reid! Breathe, love! No, I didn’t call you. My mum only wanted us in the house today, but she _did_ tell me to ask for your guys’ help for tomorrow, if that’s okay?’

     ‘Oh, sure, I’d love to help,’ he smiled before putting on a more serious expression. ‘How... was it today?’

     ‘As emotionally draining as I had expected it to be,’ you crossed your arms in front of your chest, in an unconscious defensive way. ‘There’s still so much stuff to go through. We, human beings, are real hoarders.’

     ‘We are, yes,’ he said with a frown. He saw the way you were trying to shield yourself. He also noticed that you had closed your front door this time and that you had your keys and phone with you. ‘Hey, do you, maybe, want to come in for some tea? We can talk about it, or not, whatever you need.’

     ‘I... um, well,’ you were hesitating. Your aunt and mum had already retired to bed but, what would they think if they got up and saw that you weren’t there? ‘I... okay, but just for one cup. I don’t want to worry them.’

     ‘I promise I won’t keep you longer than that,’ and with that, he stepped aside and allowed you to go inside.

     You did and stopped for a second to take it all in as Reid closed the door behind him and went to his small kitchen, which was an almost exact replica of yours. This was your first time seeing his flat properly; you had only got some glimpses here and there from the hallway. He didn’t say anything and just stayed put, leaning his back against the kitchen counter while he waited for the water to boil and watched as you moved slowly around his living room, stopping only to admire his collection of books.

     ‘Wow, I shouldn’t be surprised, but... seriously, how many books do you have in here?’ you stopped your gaping and looked at him.

     ‘Guess,’ he said with a smirk. You were sure he knew the exact number, so you let your eyes wander round his living room again, trying to come up with a number.

     ‘Can I get a hint?’ you asked right when the kettle started whistling.

     ‘Mm-hmm. You should know that I have more books in my bedroom,’ he told you as he poured the water and let the tea bags sink into their respective cups. He turned around with a tray and motioned for you to sit down on the couch. You complied and waited for him to tell you more. ‘There are exactly... 17 books in my bedroom right now, no, 18. I left my messenger bag in there and I had the book I was reading on the jet yesterday.’

     ‘Alright, so if you have 18 in there, judging by the piles of books scattered around the place and the about-to-explode bookshelves, I’d say you have...,’ you really wanted to get this right, ‘about 500 books?’

     ‘Close, but not quite,’ he answered before taking a sip of his cup.

     ‘Really?’ after putting some sugar in it, you took your cup and got up, moving to stand in front of one of his bookshelves again. ‘I need more hints, then. There are fewer than 500 in here but more than 450?’

     ‘Yes,’ he said with no hesitation.

     ‘Mmm,’ you were contemplating taking another guess, but there were way too many options.

     ‘The number is higher than 480, actually,’ he got up and stood next to you, taking another sip.

     You were staring at each other now, trying to get the other to speak first. It must have been at least five minutes without a word being uttered from neither of you. You had worked in surveillance, so you were okay with being silent for long periods of time, despite your habit of humming when the atmosphere felt too awkward; he should have known you wouldn’t be that easy to crack.

     ‘Fewer than 490,’ he told you once the silence became too much for _him._ You hadn’t started humming this time, so he felt the need to speak.

     ‘Yay! I won the staring contest!’ you said after you finished your tea and put the cup back on the tray. ‘Now, to win this little guessing game...’ he finished his own drink but went to the kitchen to leave his cup in the sink, and came back to stand in front of you with his hands in his pockets, ‘I’d say you have 487 books.’

     His face didn’t give anything away, but then a smile spread across his features.

     ‘Nope. Should I just tell you?’ you nodded, acting defeated. ‘483, actually. It would’ve been 485, but neither of the books I was hoping to find were there today.’

     ‘Ah, so close! Sorry about those books, though.’

     ‘Don’t worry. I’ll find them at some point.’

     ‘You should ask Penelope to help you track them tomorrow.’

     ‘Maybe I will,’ he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject he had invited you for, and you could see it in his eyes. You went back and sat on the couch, and he followed your lead.

     ‘It was awful, Reid. To put all of his stuff in boxes, as if we didn’t care about him or his belongings anymore,’ you put your socked feet on the couch and hugged your knees. ‘I know his clothes will help people out there who have nothing against the cold, but they were still _his_ and, I know I’ll sound like a selfish child but, I would have liked to keep _everything_. And then there were the pictures...’

     ‘You don’t sound selfish. It’s understandable considering you’re still mourning. You’ll move on with time,’ he said soothingly. The next thing he said, though, made you look up. ‘The pictures are the worst, I think. Always there to remind you of what you’ve lost.’

     ‘Did you...?’ you didn’t know how to ask the question.

     ‘My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mum’s schizophrenia.’

     ‘I’m so sorry, Reid, I had no idea. I wouldn’t have ask-’

     ‘It’s okay, you didn’t know,’ his eyes held so much pain, you felt the urge to hug him, but were unsure whether he would be alright with that. His face showed the same feelings you had had earlier when you were talking in the hallway. ‘It was a long time ago, and I’ve come to accept it.’

     ‘Reid, neither you nor your mum deserved that, especially under those circumstances,’ you wanted to add that the guy was a coward, but you couldn’t say that to him.

     ‘I know. She’s in a care facility in Vegas, my hometown.’

     ‘I see. Do you go visit her when you guys are there on cases?’

     ‘As often as I can, but we write to each other every day,’ you didn’t know, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you about his mother’s impending memory loss or about his fears of suffering from the same disease one day.

     ‘That’s lovely,’ you said with a small smile. ‘I used to write to my parents all the time when I was in the UK. Oh, and around the house, my dad would leave me and my mum these little messages on post-it notes. It was like a scavenger hunt to try to put all of the pieces together. They were usually quotes from his favourite books.’

     ‘Really?’ you nodded. ‘He enjoyed reading?’

     ‘Yeah, he was an _avid_ reader. He never wrote on any of his books, though, and he would usually tell me something about underlining or highlighting my university books.’

     ‘If I had seen you doing that, I would have told you something too,’ he laughed at your expression.

     ‘Not fair! You have an eidetic memory, you can just _recite_ things! Highlighting helps me recover information faster,’ you couldn’t help yourself and laughed a little as well. ‘Um, I should probably get going. Tomorrow we are planning on getting up early and want to try and be at the house at around 9.’

     ‘Right, I promised I wouldn’t keep you for too long and I should probably eat something.’

     ‘You haven’t had dinner yet?’

     ‘No, I was too caught up in this book on- _Wait!_ Grey‑Hart! Where are you going?’ you were already in the hallway by the time he got up.

     You were re-emerging from your flat with a Tupperware in your hand when he came out of his.

     ‘Here.’

     ‘What’s this?’ he said, grabbing the container.

     ‘Leftovers from our lunch. My aunt is way too used to cooking for four, so...’ you trailed off.

     ‘Are you sure?’

     ‘Absolutely. And don’t worry, for a British family, we are pretty good cooks,’ he laughed at that.

     ‘I noticed that the last time you cooked lunch. Thank you,’ he looked down at the object in his hand and had a smile on his face when he looked up. ‘So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?’

     ‘Yes, I’ll knock on your door when we are ready to leave. Does 8.30 sound alright?’

     ‘It does. I’ll return this tomorrow,’ he said lifting the plastic container with his left hand.

     ‘No rush,’ you smiled at him but made no attempt to move from your spot. You stared at his face for a few seconds before throwing your arms around his neck. He hugged you back, granted a little awkwardly since he had the food still in his hand. ‘Thank you, Reid,’ you whispered.

     ‘You’re welcome,’ his words were also hushed.

     You let go of his neck before you started crying, waved at him and went into your flat. He stood there for a second longer and went back into his own place. He reheated and ate the food in silence, replaying the scene in his head over and over. He could still smell your shampoo if he concentrated hard enough. He went to bed with his head full of thoughts of you, while you allowed your tears to fall freely in the darkness of your own living room.

 

* * *

     Morning greeted you with a call from Penelope. She told you Savannah and Morgan were going to pick her up and were going straight to your house, so you gave her the address and told her you were planning on being there at around 9. Thankfully, her call allowed you to get up before your family, which gave you some extra time to cover your puffy eyes with some light make-up. You woke them up with breakfast in bed and, soon enough, you were knocking on Reid’s door as your mum and aunt finished getting ready.

     ‘Hey, there,’ he told you. He was wearing a green button down shirt and a grey cardigan, with the same brown trousers from the day before; you felt underdressed with your leggings and baggy, black hoodie. He finished putting on his coat and went inside again to grab his messenger bag and the Tupperware from the previous night. ‘Here you go.’

     ‘Morning! I told you there was no rush, but thanks. Are you ready to go?’

     ‘Yeah, I am. Are you?’

     ‘Yes, just waiting on the gals in there. Let me go check on them.’

     You entered your flat to find your mum putting on her own coat next to the couch instead of being nearer the door where the hanger was, and your aunt was pretending to flip through a magazine she had read the day before. They had been listening to the conversation; their faces were _so_ obvious. You acted as if you hadn’t noticed their strange behaviour and left the container in the sink, even though Reid had clearly washed it.

     ‘Are you guys all done? I don’t want my co-workers to get to the house before we do.’

     They nodded and stood in silence next to you in the hallway while you locked the door. All three individuals were waiting for you to do the introductions.

     ‘Okay, mum, auntie, this is Dr Spencer Reid, one of the members of the BAU. Reid, this is my mum Beatrice Grey‑Hart and my aunt Victoria Grant,’ they both extended their hands as you mentioned their names before you had time to warn them. ‘Um, Reid doesn’t shake hands.’

     ‘That’s right; the amount of germs that can be exchanged in a handshake is astronomical. Anyway, it’s very nice to meet you both.’

     They looked at each other briefly before repeating the sentiment back to him.

     ‘Why don’t we get going and we can chat in the car?’ you received sounds of agreement and led the way down the stairs.

     Once you got into the car, your mum took the passenger seat, leaving Reid and your aunt to take the back. You turned on the radio and started humming, which made Reid smile to himself while he stared out the window. Your aunt saw this and made a mental note to let her sister know of the exchanges she had witnessed between the two of you so far.

     ‘Mrs Grant,’ Reid interrupted her thoughts, ‘I just wanted to tell you that your food was delicious. Your niece gave me some leftovers last night when I told her I hadn’t had any dinner yet.’

     ‘Oh, why thank you, young man,’ she answered sincerely. ‘You know, a lot of people always think that we are horrible cooks just because of our nationality, but let me tell you...’

     You and your mum tuned your aunt completely out; you had both heard the speech before. She and Reid continued with their chat until you got to the house. Once you entered, you only had to wait five minutes before there was a knock on the door and Penelope, in all of her yellow dress glory, was standing there with a sleepy looking Savannah.

     ‘Hi guys! Thank you so much for coming today,’ you said as you allowed them to come in and waited for Morgan to get out of the car.

     ‘Please, stop thanking us,’ Penelope told you and went to introduce herself to your family.

     When Morgan came in, Savannah attached herself to his side, needing the support.

     ‘There’s some fresh coffee in the kitchen calling your name, Savannah.’

     ‘Thank you,’ she said and went in search of it and to meet your family as well, who were chatting with Penny and Reid around the small island in the kitchen.

     ‘Was she at the hospital last night?’ you asked Morgan, who nodded.

     ‘I told her to stay, that you had enough hands to help you. Garcia did the same, but she just covered her ears and refused to get out of the car,’ he laughed a little when he saw your mouth hanging slightly open.

     ‘She did? Wow,’ you felt fresh tears forming in your eyes. You turned around and entered the library to hide your state from the others, but Morgan followed you.

     ‘Grey‑Hart, are you okay?’ he said while he put a hand on your shoulder.

     ‘Yeah, it’s just...’ you sniffed and took a breath, ‘I’ve never had so many people willing to help me and it’s a little overwhelming.’

     ‘Better get used to it,’ said Penelope from the archway that served as the entrance to the library.

     She came towards you and gave you a bear hug, just as Savannah came in and joined you two. Reid and Morgan looked on with small smiles on their faces, and Reid gave you a cup of coffee once you were released from their tight grip.

     ‘Thank you, really. You have no idea how much this means to me.’

     ‘Stop! That’s what we’re here for. The rest of the team sent their love and apologised for not being able to make it, by the way,’ Penelope told you as she grabbed your free hand between her own.

     ‘You called the rest of the team?’

     ‘Yes, but they all had things to do, so you got stuck with us.’

     ‘Alright, let’s get this done,’ you smiled at them and you all set out to work, following your mum’s instructions on where to take what.

     The rest of the day was spent mainly putting books away in boxes in the library. Savannah and Reid decided to help you there, while Morgan and Penelope took whatever your family was going to donate to the different organizations your mum had chosen. This meant Reid kept going on and on about different authors and praising your father’s taste in books. You hummed in agreement and answered his never-ending questions; Savannah stayed quiet most of the morning, listening to your ramblings and still trying to wake up.

     Morgan and Penelope were also in charge of bringing everyone some lunch. You had decided on pizza since it was the closest to the house, and you took a break from everything to eat. Thanks to everyone’s help, the upper floor was all taken care of –only the beds and other basic pieces of furniture remained, already covered in white sheets– and you had almost finished with the downstairs area.

     You had four more boxes of books to fill your bookshelves with and the coffee maker, which your mum insisted on you taking back with you – _bless her stubbornness_ –, and then you had to pack the rest of your clothes, along with some paintings and other shenanigans. That only left the TV in the living room to decide on, since you were going to leave the other pieces of furniture behind.

     ‘I still think you should take it. It’s only logical,’ she insisted once lunch was over and you were loading boxes in the car.

     ‘How? How is it logical, mum?’ you asked her.

     ‘One, you don’t have a TV. Two, you have very little money to spare on something like that. Three, it’ll stay here and probably get ruined if you don’t take it. Four, why buy a new one you’ll barely use when you can take this one?’

     She was right, but you didn’t want to admit it.

     ‘Fine,’ you conceded, and she smiled triumphant as she put the final box in the trunk.

     ‘Thank you,’ she said and hugged you. You smiled at her before going back and trying to figure out how you were going to take your two “new” acquisitions along with your old printer.

     In the end, Morgan offered to take them in his car, since there was no more space in yours, along with some more suitcases of your clothes and a couple of your mum’s boxes. All in all, it took you about two more hours in the afternoon to finish packing everything, but once the rest was securely stored away in the basement and the downstairs furniture was also covered in white sheets, you closed all of the blinds and locked up the house once more. You went back to your flat with two cars filled with stuff and –besides your family, of course– filled with no-longer strangers who you were most definitely warming their way into your heart.

 

* * *

     After that Tuesday, you became much closer to Penelope, Savannah, Morgan and Reid. Your mum and aunt helped you buy some gifts for all of them during the weekend as a token of your family’s gratitude towards them. They were simple, but conveyed your feelings well enough. They had all tried to reject the gifts at first when you invited them for dinner the following weekend, but accepted them nonetheless after your aunt and mum intervened. You had got Penelope many different colour pens and a bracelet with a little heart hanging from it, and bought Savannah a silver necklace with a similar pendant to Penelope’s gift.

     The guys were tougher to choose for, so you decided on a t-shirt for Morgan and a book for Reid. It was of a Russian author but in English, despite your efforts to find something that was not translated. He laughed when he saw the post-it note you had put in the first page that read “484” next to a smiley face. Dinner ended up being a tight fit, but you managed to seat everyone in your dining table, after dragging an extra chair from Reid’s flat.

     The following weeks went by with, thankfully, only one case that took you out of state. When you returned, you were surprised to find that, while you were gone, your mum and aunt had painted the rest of your bathroom –which you paid no attention to ever since the repair work was finished–, and then your mum told you that she had finally decided to try to open a small institute or to rent a space in the UK near your aunt’s house to start on that tutoring business. You supported her decision one hundred per cent and you were sure going to miss her, but she needed to deal with the pain in her own way, and you realised you both needed different kinds of distractions.

     March flew by, and then the final weekend of your family’s stay arrived. It was a particularly teary farewell at the airport. So much so, that you ended up visiting Penelope on your way back and cried with her while you watched some random movie. She took you in without asking a single question and only let you go after calling Reid while you were in the bathroom to let him know you were going back and that you may need the support. You were pleasantly surprised when he knocked on your door the minute you came back and sat down to chat with you for some time as a way to distract you.

     The following day you went back to work with a lighter heart and a clear mind, ready to create new memories with the wonderful people who surrounded you and to go in whichever adventure your job threw your way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that nothing major happens in this chapter, but I see it as necessary to close the story about the Reader's family for now and to keep working on their relationships. Going through a relative's belongings after their passing (whether it's a day or a month later) can be a very exhausting experience and that's what I tried to convey here.
> 
> Next chapter is a lot lighter :)


	13. Power cut

_“We are pirates at sea with the world at our feet, / Sailing on waves made of stars. / A princess needs a friend where the laughter won't end. / That’s worth more than a prince who can charm.”_

– “Running through Rivers”, by Carrie Hope Fletcher.

* * *

     It was the end of May, meaning that already a few months had gone by since your family left. Your mum settled quite well back in the UK in her sister’s home and she started renting an office space near the house. She was in the middle of remodelling it and trying to get the different papers in order so as to be able to open it before classes began again. You usually spoke on the phone or via Skype to be able to see her and your aunt’s family as well. They all seemed to be doing fine so far, although you knew your mum was struggling to get used to living without your dad. You only hoped being in England could help her get through it.

     That day, however, it was all about you: you were planning on having a very peaceful day off. It had been a tough case in the North West region of the country, so everyone on the team was enjoying themselves; at least that’s what you gathered from Penelope’s never‑ending string of texts. Thanks to her you knew that: Hotch was spending some quality time with Jack at the park; Morgan had arranged a romantic dinner date with Savannah; Lewis and Rossi were at an old cars’ exhibition, and finally, Reid had offered to babysit Henry so that JJ could take care of little Michael –he was sick and needed to be taken to the hospital in the middle of the night. It was nothing serious, but you knew both JJ and Will didn’t want Henry to catch whatever his younger brother had.

     And that left you with Penelope, who, after Reid refused to accept her offer to help babysit their godson, was bugging _you_ because she wanted to get together and marathon something. The problem with that was that you actually had errands to run and needed to make the most of your time. Who knew when you would get another day like this? Besides, it was cloudy and, if it rained, you wanted to sit by your window with a hot cuppa and a good book.

     It was mid-morning when you made your way out of your flat and ran into JJ, who was standing in the hallway in front of Reid’s door.

     ‘Grey-Hart! Hi! You... you’re going out?’ she seemed apprehensive.

     ‘Morning, JJ. Yes, I am. Did you come to drop Henry off? I could have gone to pick him up.’

     ‘Don’t worry, I was on my way to the hospital anyway to see Michael and make Will go get some rest.’

     ‘How are they? Is there anything I can help you with?’ you had already reached the entrance doors to the building.

     ‘No, but thank you for offering,’ she then looked up towards Reid’s windows and you both saw him running after what you could only assume was Henry, since he wasn’t tall enough to be seen from where you stood.

     ‘It’s going to be okay. Reid is Henry’s godfather. He wouldn’t let anything happen to that little guy,’ she sighed.

     ‘I know, it’s just... I always get worried, especially if it’s Reid alone. If he had Garcia with him...,’ she looked up again, probably torn between making her way back up the stairs and actually going to the hospital.

     ‘Look, I need to go and take care of some things, but I should be back in about an hour, tops. I’ll come back, make up some excuse and get myself into Reid’s flat so that I make sure they both have lunch. I’ll keep you posted.’

     ‘Thank you so much!’ she hugged you and thanked you repeatedly, clearly relieved.

     ‘Don’t worry about it! Go and take care of the rest of your family. Henry is in good hands for today, albeit a little clumsy but...’

     ‘Haha, yes! That’s exactly why I get worried! I know he means well, though,’ she sighed again and went towards her car, which was parked right in front of the building. ‘Anyway, thank you, Grey‑Hart! I owe you one!’

     ‘I _said:_ don’t worry about it! I’ll message you when I get back!’ you waved at her and started walking towards the main street area.

 

* * *

     When you returned, you decided to dump your stuff on top of the dining table and retraced your steps to knock on Reid’s door as fast as you could, despite the fact that your hair and clothes were a bit damp because of the light rain outside. You had heard a thump and some other noises that got you worried.

     ‘Hey, Reid! It’s me, Grey‑Hart! Is everything alright?’ you shouted after you got no response, hoping your voice would carry through the door and whatever was happening in there.

     ‘Come in!’ came his muffled voice.

     You opened the door, and what you found was a picture‑perfect moment: there, in the middle of Reid’s flat was the man himself, tangled up in sheets and there was no sign of little Henry, until you heard him, making his way from the bathroom.

     ‘Miss (Y/n)!’ he said excitedly. He was adorable. The two of you had bonded over some mutual love for superheroes once, during a short visit to JJ’s house to drop off some of her files she had forgotten in your desk.

     ‘Hi! Look at you! You are much taller than the last time I saw you!’

     ‘Uncle Spence told me I grew two inches!’ he said while holding up two fingers.

     ‘Well, you’d better stop or you’ll make me feel super short in no time,’ he laughed that innocent laugh that only children can master. You smiled and couldn’t help the urge to raffle his blonde locks.

     ‘Um... guys? A little help?’ Reid sounded horribly embarrassed.

     ‘Right! So sorry, Reid. I got distracted,’ you didn’t even try to hide your smirk while you took your phone out of your jacket’s pocket and proceeded to snap pictures.

     ‘No! Please, Grey‑Hart! If Garcia or Morgan ever see me like this-’

     ‘Stop whining! This is only for me, so that I never forget this moment. Not all of us have that big brain of yours, you know? Besides, I’m not going to show them the pictures.’

     ‘Please, I’ve seen you and Garcia together. She’s always taking your phone!’

     ‘Fine. I’ll send these to my computer and delete them from my phone. Deal?’

     ‘I guess. It’s not like I really have a choice,’ you smiled sweetly at his defeated expression, and that’s when Henry, who had run to his backpack to get his new action figure and show it to you, finally noticed Reid’s predicament.

     ‘Uncle Spence, no! The fort! What are we gonna do?’ he looked devastated; you crouched down and turned him around so that he was facing you.

     ‘Henry, why don’t we help your uncle out of that mess, and after we get food inside this belly,’ you emphasised the point by tickling him a little in said area, to which he laughed, ‘we’ll bring some sheets from my flat and build an even bigger fort?’

     ‘Really?! Can we do that?!’ his eyes were shining due to the excitement.

     ‘Of course, buddy! Now, let’s help your uncle out of there.’

     ‘Yaaaaaay!’

     Henry just seemed to help tangle Reid even more, but you managed to get him out in the end. Since the genius didn’t have too many ingredients in his fridge to make a proper lunch for the three of you, you moved to your flat temporarily to prepare some food for everyone. Reid helped you and kept an eye on Henry at the same time while he happily watched TV.

     You struggled a little during lunch itself because Henry refused to eat everything that was on the plate, a.k.a. his vegetables. You had to bribe him by telling him you would give him some of the chocolate cake sitting in your fridge. Needless to say, all three of you enjoyed eating a big slice each in front of the TV afterwards.

     About half an hour later, while Henry was helping Reid clean and tidy up the kitchen, you went in search of as many sheets and pillows as you could carry, and set them all in the living room. Then, Reid went to look for his from his own flat as Henry preferred your place thanks to the food and entertainment you had there. Afterwards, Reid told you he was glad you showed up when you did; he was a little scared his godson was going to destroy his beloved collection of books.

     You then set about moving the couch out of the way and making the fort as big as you could, which was rather easy thanks to Reid’s height and planning skills. After another half hour of hard work, you had completed it and it looked majestic. It occupied almost your entire living room area! You snapped a sneaky picture and sent it to JJ without alerting neither of the _boys_ who were already sitting inside the fort. It was adorable, really. Henry was half watching _Big Hero 6_ and half explaining it to Reid, who seemed as engrossed in the movie as Henry was.

     Yet, just as the characters were about to discover what had happened during the teleportation accident, the lights went out. You went into a little panic, momentarily remembering what had happened the last time you had experienced a power cut. Reid was at your side in an instant with Henry next to him, who actually grabbed your hand when they reached you. You crouched and hugged him, trying not to show how scared you were on the inside.

     ‘Don’t worry, Henry. It’s just a power cut. It’s probably because of the storm. I'm sure it’ll be over soon,’ he nodded at you but he still seemed disappointed about not being able to watch the rest of the film.

     ‘I think it’s the entire block. Even the street lights are off. I’ll call the power company,’ Reid announced after quickly checking if the other buildings had any lights on through one of the windows and moved towards the little hallway that led to your bathroom and bedroom.

 _‘Great,’_ you turned your attention back to the little guy standing in front of you. ‘How about we call your mum in the meantime and you tell her all about your fort?’

     ‘Yes! Can I call her from inside the fort?’

     ‘Sure you can, buddy!’

     You called JJ and told her about the situation and then put her on speaker so that Henry could crawl inside the fort again to tell her about his adventures. Reid came back and told you what the power company had said.

     ‘It could take them three hours?! Ugh, how are we gonna entertain this guy? And with this rain,’ you replied, looking over at the smiling child.

     ‘We could call Garcia and see if she’s in her house.’

     ‘No, we would all get soaked. It’s raining pretty hard now,’ the sound of the thunders roaring outside seemed to prove your point to him.

     ‘You’re right. I don’t want him to get sick as well.’

     Henry then called Reid over to the fort so that he could retell what they had been up to before they moved the fun to your flat. You smiled at them. You would figure something out. You had brought some board games with you from your parents’ house, and you were sure you had grabbed some of your childhood puzzles, too. You went in search of those and found them in the little section of your closet where you had stored those boxes away. When you walked back into the living room, you noticed that Reid had put your phone on top of the table and was performing a little magic trick.

     You joined them on the floor for a while and you were surprised by Reid’s ability to change what seemed typical magic tricks into something completely different. You were having quite a lot of fun, not knowing what he would do next, but Henry got bored after a while, so you grabbed your old puzzles and games and spent a good hour and a half playing with those.

     ‘I’m bored,’ he declared after solving his third puzzle.

     ‘What do you want to do, Henry?’ Reid asked patiently.

     You had spent an hour and a half playing, _yes,_ but it meant going through a whole box of games, and Henry deciding that he was bored either after solving a puzzle or after fifteen minutes into a random board game.

     ‘I don’t know. I wanna watch TV,’ he said with a pout.

     ‘I know, sweetheart, and I’m sorry, but there’s nothing your uncle and I can do to fix that right now.’

     He sighed and looked down. He probably missed his family as well. You didn’t know what to do, until an idea popped into your head.

     ‘I know! How about some music?’ you grabbed your iPod, which you had charged that morning and still had three quarters of the battery after your walk that day, and searched for your Disney and movie soundtracks folder. You found it, and Henry started singing his little heart out to the songs he recognised from his favourite movies. You recorded it with your phone and decided to send it to both JJ and Penelope later, when you, hopefully, had power again.

     But then, the instrumental version of “Let it go” came on, and Henry didn’t really remember the lyrics to that. You had actually forgotten that you had that version in there.

     ‘Would you like me to sing it to you?’ you said stopping the song.

     ‘You can sing?! Mum has tried to sing to me a few times, but Dad always makes her stop right as she starts.’

 _Oh, poor JJ_. You hadn’t heard her sing, but she couldn’t be _that_ bad. Without paying any attention to Reid’s reply, you got up and grabbed the only blanket that was not in use. It was purple, and you tied it around your neck like Queen Elsa’s cape. You decided to do a little performance. You just hoped Reid wouldn’t give you a hard time, especially after your teased him at his flat.

     You restarted the song and began singing. By the time you got to the chorus, Henry was singing along with you whenever he managed to remember the words. Reid stayed inside the fort, looking at you and Henry while you sang and moved around the flat. If anyone had walked in right then, they would have said it was a poor attempt at a performance, but you didn’t care. The little guy was laughing and jumping around with you while you tried not to miss any notes –he probably wouldn’t have noticed, but still.

     When you finished that somewhat paralysing last bit of the song, you took a moment to catch your breath. Henry didn’t seem to pay attention to that and he just started clapping.

     ‘That was amazing, Miss (Y/n)!’

     You were in the middle of a bow when the power came back.

     ‘That was like real magic!’

     You laughed at the child’s comment, but Reid remained silent. He had been staring at you throughout the entire song. He looked a little in awe, and that’s when you realised that you had never sung in front of him, or anyone on the team for that matter. Only Dr Blake knew about your being in the choir back in school.

     ‘I-I didn’t know you could sing like that. Rossi would be happy to invite you to any bar with an open mic night.’

     ‘Haha, I bet he would,’ you had heard him quite a few times already singing around the hallways at Quantico. ‘I used to be in the choir in primary and secondary school.’

     You pressed stop on your iPod and turned on the TV, while you and Reid sat at the table and continued talking about your time at school. Henry fell asleep inside the fort about twenty minutes into _Inside Out_ , and that’s how JJ found him when she came round to pick him up.

     ‘Thank you so much for today,’ she told you both again at the door, while she held onto her son fast asleep in her arms. ‘Will took Michael home already, so I’ll probably be able to come into work tomorrow after all.’

     ‘Great! Let us know if you need anything else,’ Reid told her, starting to tidy up your living room.

     ‘He seems to have had a lot of fun. Spence, Grey‑Hart, get ready to be called to babysit _very_ soon. And you’d better come, or I’ll never hear the end of it.’

     ‘It’ll be my pleasure,’ you answered, walking towards her from the kitchen, and Reid just hummed in agreement. ‘Here, take this. There’s some homemade dinner. It should be more than enough for the three of you.’

     ‘I owe you big time,’ her eyes revealed how tired she was. ‘I’ll return it tomorrow.’

     ‘There’s no rush. Need any help getting down the stairs?’

     ‘Give me the keys to your car and the bags. I’ll walk with you,’ Reid offered.

     ‘Here you go. And for the hundredth time, thank you.’

     ‘Go already!’ you told her with a smile. ‘Let me know when you get home.’

     She returned the smile, and Reid went down with her to make sure she made it safely to her car. It wasn’t raining anymore, but the streets were still wet. You watched her go, and got startled when you heard a knock on your door.

     ‘Reid. Missed me already?’ you joked.

     ‘Yes, because five hours, forty minutes and ten seconds of your company just wasn’t enough time,’ the corners of his lips turned up as he recited how much time you had spent with him that day.

     ‘Wow, you’re scarily precise, even when you make jokes,’ you said through a laugh before speaking again. ‘Now, seriously, what do you need?’

     You allowed him to come in and went back to the fort so you could continue destroying what had been a wonderful creation.

     ‘I was going to help you clean up. I would feel bad if I left all of this mess here for you to take care of on your own.’

     ‘Damn! And here I was, hoping I’d get some free bed sheets and pillows.’

     ‘What?’ his face showed complete confusion.

     ‘I was kidding, Reid! That would just be... creepy.’

     He laughed, and you two continued untangling and folding the sheets that had made up the fort while talking about the day’s adventures. Even if it wasn’t as peaceful as you had planned it to be, you had had an unexpectedly fun day off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light-hearted fluff is always necessary, right? Right. I *needed* to add Henry somewhere in this story; he's precious.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! :)


	14. Bloody hell

_“Across darkened skies, I travelled without a light / I sank in the well of my mind / Too deep, never to be found.”_

– “The End of this Chapter”, by Sonata Arctica

* * *

 _Quantico_ (Tuesday)

     It was hot outside to be wearing formal clothes, so you had settled on some black skinny [jeans](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/145513850831/wutb-outfits-chapter-14), a loose, white shirt, black converse and a dark blue blazer –and a scarf since you were always cold in the office. You thought: _If Reid is able to get away with wearing sneakers to work, so can I_. He had reassured you that Hotch wouldn’t say a thing about it when you asked him in the car. You had felt a little nervous, but it was all for nothing because the genius ended up being right. Hotch saw you but just greeted you two when you entered the bullpen before he rushed back up to his office.

     It was a fairly normal morning, and you were happy because your mum had sent you a picture of your little cousin Dylan sitting in one of the tables in the office‑turned classroom at the place she was renting. Penelope, JJ and Lewis “aw-ed” when you showed it to them; Reid and Morgan came creeping behind you to see what you had deemed so adorable. They all asked you about your family and how your mum was doing, and you chatted for a while over coffee. You were so proud of her; you had already planned to call her over Skype that afternoon the minute you got back home.

     Yet, the summer brought both a heat wave and a horrible new case along which would prevent you from calling your family in the other side of the Atlantic. It was the end of June, and what you saw when you walked into the conference room that Tuesday morning made your stomach churned a bit; you were glad the meeting didn’t take place after lunch time.

     ‘I assume we have a case,’ said Rossi as he sat down; even he was a little disgusted by the photos on the screen.

     ‘We do,’ Penelope said, coming from the little hallway behind the wall where the TV was propped up. She looked a little pale.

     ‘Are you okay, love?’ you asked her when you saw her face.

     ‘Yes, it’s just... I can’t stand this kind of things.’

     ‘It’ll be over soon,’ you tried to reassure her. She nodded, avoiding looking at the screen.

     You grabbed the file sitting in front of you and grimaced a little at the close-ups as Hotch entered the room last and sat down next to Rossi.

     ‘Garcia, please,’ he said in a more soothing tone than usual, fully aware of Penelope’s repulsion to blood and anything gory, really.

     ‘Yes, sir. Yesterday, local P.D. in Cheyenne, Wyoming found three dead bodies in an abandoned warehouse; the bodies were reported by a group of homeless people who usually frequent the place. It is also an unofficial hub for street artists looking for blank walls to paint some graffiti in.’

     ‘Yet, the victims did not belong to either of these groups,’ Hotch continued. ‘The victims are: Claire Hall, college student, 21; Ellie Warren, secretary, 42, and Arnold Greene, clerk, 35.’

     ‘Is this the first time this happens there?’ you asked, while still looking at the file.

     ‘It is. There are no police records that show any other incident similar to this one,’ Penelope answered you.

     ‘What is so significant about this that we got called in? Besides the number of bodies,’ Morgan asked.

     ‘That would be because of how they died, actually,’ Hotch started. ‘They were exsanguinated.’

     ‘All three of them?’ JJ asked. ‘So, is the blood in the crime scene theirs?’

     ‘We don’t know. The police are still waiting on the M.E.’s reports,’ Hotch said.

     ‘Exsanguination is a rather unusual cause of death among human beings. Although, traumatic injury can cause it if bleeding is not promptly controlled, and it is the most common cause of death in military combat. Yet, non-combat causes can include: gunshot or stab wounds; motor vehicle crash injuries; suicide by severing arteries, typically those in the wrists, and finally partial or total limb amputation, such as via accidental contact with a circular or chain saw, or become entangled in operating machinery,’ Reid contributed with his typical string of facts.

     ‘But the M.E.'s preliminary report of when he got to the scene says there were no visual injuries in the bodies,’ Rossi read from the file.

     ‘What about the victims? Did they have anything in common?’ Lewis asked Penelope.

     ‘Not that I could find in my initial search, at least. The families were also unable to explain why their loved ones were in that part of town, so far away from their homes or places they visited on a regular basis.’

     ‘Is it possible that they were kidnapped by a creep with a clear love for blood that just needed someone to extract it from?’ JJ proposed.

     ‘They could’ve been victims of opportunity if we take into account that this UnSub does not seem to have a type: Claire was white and blonde, Ellie was black, and Arnold was white, slightly overweight and balding,’ you said looking at the pictures of them lying lifeless on the ground on the screen.

     ‘They do appear to be random victims. For now, we’ll focus on what we have. Everybody get ready; we have a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty,’ Hotch finished the meeting with his usual phrase.

 

* * *

     Inside the jet, you all continued to work on your theories. You didn’t have much to go by other than the three victims you had so far.

     ‘Let’s start over,’ said Hotch a little frustrated with the lack of evidence the team had.

     ‘Okay, we have three unrelated victims that vary in aspect, age, body type, race and gender,’ Lewis recited.

     ‘We know that they died from exsanguination, away from the city and their homes, but we cannot be sure that the blood in the scene is theirs,’ JJ continued.

     ‘And so far, we can only think that they were victims of opportunity,’ you added.

     ‘They _could_ have been lured by the UnSub,’ Reid challenged the previous theory.

     ‘How so?’ Hotch looked at him from his spot on the couch.

     ‘They could have been taken at random, yes, but what if the UnSub used some kind of ruse to attract them?’

     ‘I agree with Pretty Boy. I mean, we have to consider this: they were exsanguinated, and vampires are still pretty popular...,’ Morgan said as an afterthought.

     ‘So, are we seriously thinking that Count Orlok is on the loose and attacking people in Cheyenne, Wyoming?’ Rossi asked incredulously.

     ‘It could be possible,’ Lewis continued Reid and Morgan’s argument. ‘They were all single. Couldn’t it be that they were looking for some romance, fascinated with the idea of vampires, and ended up walking into a death trap?’

     ‘Garcia, are you listening to this?’ Hotch asked her. You had completely forgotten that she was in a call, since she had been so quiet.

     ‘I am, sir! I will start searching to see if they were around any sketchy places that could be considered vampire lairs, but I’ll be able to know more if you can get me access to their personal computers,’ she hung up after that.

     ‘Alright. When we land, JJ and Morgan, you’ll go to Claire’s dorm room since the family hasn’t been allowed to take anything home yet. Grey‑Hart and Rossi, you’ll go to Ellie’s house. Reid and Lewis, you will go to Arnold’s apartment. I’ll go to the police station and set up while we wait for the M.E. to tell us more details regarding these deaths.’

     Everyone nodded and got settled into their seats for the remainder of the flight. You had chosen an aisle seat this time, and Dr Lewis was sitting next to you, while Reid and Morgan were in front of you. JJ moved and sat next to Hotch who was now behind you, leaving Rossi alone on the couch. He seemed to have decided to listen to your conversation.

     ‘Could this really be a fake Edward Cullen looking for some fun?’ you asked after a couple of minutes of silence. You were still looking at the crime scene pictures. Something was bugging you, and you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

     ‘Who?’ Reid asked you confused.

     ‘Edward Cullen, the male vampire character from the book series and movie saga, _Twilight_ ,’ Lewis answered absentmindedly; she was focusing on the map of the city, trying to find anything that might connect the victims.

     ‘Never heard of that except for when JJ mentioned it once during a case about... six years ago.’

     ‘You’re lucky, then,’ Morgan answered with a smirk. Reid just looked more confused than before.

      _‘Twilight_ was popular amongst teenagers, but highly criticised for the idealisation of vampires which, according to many critics, led teenage girls to believe that the main female human character, Bella, and the main male vampire character’s, Edward, relationship to be perfect when in reality he is clearly abusive, jealous-driven and downright creepy,’ you explained to him. The more you went on, the higher Reid and Morgan’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What?’

     ‘You read those books,’ Morgan said with a teasing tone.

     ‘Yes, I did. All the girls at school were going crazy about this Edward Cullen guy and I wanted to know what the fuss was all about. I was highly disappointed. Even though the series in itself was entertaining, there were too many loopholes in the universe the author tried to set up, and the syntax and lexis were poor, to say the least.’

     ‘I think you’re the only teenage girl that didn’t fall head over heels for that Edward guy,’ Lewis told you, laughing.

     ‘Yeah, but I am more of a Jasper kind of girl,’ you told her with a smile.

     ‘And who is th-’ Reid started, only to be interrupted by Rossi getting up. He had had enough of the teenage talk.

     ‘I’m gonna go for a while. Call me when there’s a different topic,’ he said before sitting in front of Hotch and JJ for a more mature conversation apparently.

     ‘I guess vampires aren’t his thing, huh?’ Lewis said with a smirk and in a low voice. You just shook your head and continued with the pictures, until Morgan interrupted your thoughts.

     ‘Grey‑Hart, you’ve been staring at those for a while. What are you looking for?’

     ‘I don’t really know. There’s something here that seems out of place, but I cannot find what it is.’

     ‘What do you mean?’ Reid looked at the pictures in his own file for a while. Morgan and Lewis searched for clues in the bloody mess along with you two.

     ‘I’m not sure what we’re trying to find,’ she said after a minute.

     ‘Me neither,’ Morgan agreed, leaning back against his seat.

     ‘I think Grey‑Hart’s right... There’s something that doesn’t belong in here...,’ Reid said.

     ‘The graffiti,’ Hotch heard you and moved to the couch to listen to what you had found. ‘There’s paint in practically every surface, right?’ you continued as you displayed the pictures on the table in front of you. ‘But there are a couple of them that do not look, should I say, artistic enough to belong in there.’

     ‘What do you mean?’ JJ asked, also getting up from her seat and standing next to yours.

     ‘Here, here and here,’ you pointed at the three where you could see the walls better. ‘There are three phrases written in Japanese in here.’

     ‘Don’t tell me you can speak Japanese as well,’ Rossi said, sitting down next to Hotch.

     ‘No, I cannot. But I can assure you that it _is_ Japanese and not any other Asian language. I can recognise the different kanji, or Chinese characters, and the other more simple ones, or Hiragana, used for syntactic purposes, let’s say,’ they were looking at you in confusion. ‘I like reading manga and watching anime in my free time. I learned a few basic phrases,’ you explained, trying hard not to blush.

     ‘Aren’t you full of surprises today?’ Morgan teased you again; your only response was to stare blankly at him.

     ‘Do you think you could come up with a translation?’ Hotch asked, bringing seriousness back to the group.

     ‘I would need clearer pictures of the characters but yes, I _could_ work something out.’

     ‘I’ll call the police and ask them to take pictures of all of the walls before we get there,’ he said standing up and already taking his phone out of his pocket.

     ‘I would suggest asking them to run some tests on them as well,’ Reid said afterwards, making Hotch stop and turn around.

     ‘Why?’ JJ asked him.

     ‘Because, at least from these, it looks like they were written with blood.’

 

* * *

The rest of the flight was spent in relative silence, with you and Reid trying to decipher what those characters were to try and save time afterwards. Lewis, Morgan and JJ were working with Penelope over the phone, locating the few places she was able to find so far. Hotch was discussing different possibilities of abduction with Rossi, and occasionally asked Penny to help them with dating sites and other websites to see if there was anyone suspicious. None of the three groups had any luck in their searches, and everyone went their separate ways to the victims’ houses to see if their computers would give them something more to work with.

It was five in the afternoon when you landed, and Rossi was driving you to Ellie Warren’s house. She lived alone and owned a modest house with a nicely kept garden at the front. The police met you there, and you joined them in their investigation, trying to find any hidden secrets that might help you catch whoever was behind this. You were waiting for Ellie’s computer to boot up when Rossi called you from her en suite bathroom.

‘Grey‑Hart, come check this out.’

‘What did you find? I’m still-’ you paused from your place at the door. Rossi was standing in the middle of the bathroom, holding a paper in his hand, looking at the bottles of medicine in the mirror cabinet. ‘What are those for?’ You reached for them with a gloved hand.

‘This looks like a doctor’s handwriting. I think it says: Cyclophosphamide, Methotrexate and Fluorouracil?’ he read, not sure if he was pronouncing them correctly.

‘These are just regular pain killers and the like. Let’s call Penelope and ask her about those,’ you said pointing at the paper in his hand. Penny answered after the second ring, and you put her on speaker.

‘Your wish is my command, doll face!’ you made a face at the name, but avoided saying anything since it wasn’t relevant at the moment. Rossi, on the other hand, didn’t even react to the nickname, too used to Penelope and Morgan’s conversations.

‘Penny, could you search for the main uses of the drugs I’m about to read to you?’

‘Sure thing!’ you started reading off the names, having to spell some of them. ‘It appears that the combination of those is called CMF, and it’s usually used in chemotherapy to treat breast cancer patients.’

‘Did Ellie visit the doctor often?’ Rossi asked her.

‘It looks like... oh wow, she did,’ she lowered her voice slightly. ‘During the last six months she’s been to all of her doctor’s appointments every week, without fail, until two weeks ago. Poor thing, all of her earnings were going to the medical bills.’

‘That gives us a time frame, at least. Garcia, check if the others had any similar routines. Maybe they weren’t ill like Ellie but were going through a tough time as well.’

‘No problem.’

‘I’m about to give you access to her computer,’ you told her, introducing the USB in the first available port you saw.

‘It seems that her internet history was deleted but let me download some things...,’ she was mumbling and you got about half of what she was saying. Rossi looked at you slightly confused by the gibberish coming from your phone and the intense keyboard action, but you just shrugged waiting for her to address you again. ‘Aha! Gotcha!’

‘What did you find?’ Rossi asked.

‘Nothing!’

‘What?’ you and Rossi said at the same time.

‘Someone did exactly the same thing I’m doing. They used remote access to erase any trace that may lead us to them.’

‘But there was no sign of forced entry...,’ you mentioned. ‘Could Ellie have been a part of it?’

‘She could’ve, yes,’ Penelope said, pausing her constant typing. ‘You can turn it off, doll. I have what I need. I’ll continue with this and call you when I find something!’

And with that, she hung up on you. You sighed as you took the USB out and turned the computer off. Why did criminals have to be so sophisticated and delete their digital trace as well as any physical evidence?

‘They couldn’t be the sloppy kind, huh?’ you murmured without thinking.

‘They? You think it’s more than one?’ Rossi was opening and closing drawers next to you. You opened the wardrobe and continued looking for any clues. You paused your search briefly.

‘I said “they”? I didn’t even realise.’

‘You did. I may be getting old but, I haven’t gone deaf yet,’ he joked. ‘I also think it’s gotta be more than one. Being able to kidnap three victims, whichever the method or ruse, erasing all data and evidence... These people aren’t messing around.’

‘Do you think it’s a network type of thing like the case with Powell in Texas?’

‘I don’t think this is as elaborate as that one, but it’s a possibility. We should try to get this done as fast as we can and go to the police station to tell the rest,’ you nodded at him and continued working mostly in silence.

You left the house after another half hour of searching along with the police and joined the team at the station; you and Rossi were the last ones to arrive.

‘Chief, these are Special Agents Rossi and Grey‑Hart. They were at Ellie Warren’s house,’ you shook the chief’s hands. They were sweaty, and you saw Morgan’s smirk at your attempt to mask your disgust. You went to stand next to JJ and acted as if you were just removing your blazer while you discreetly cleaned your hand against your thigh, making you miss the moment when Reid lightly slapped Morgan in the arm in your defence. That day reminded him why he didn’t shook hands with strangers.

‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Craig Tucker, Chief of Police. I’m at your disposal, should you need anything.’

You gave him a tight smile and nodded, hoping he never touched you with those hands again.

‘Let’s recap now that we’re all here. The M.E. will see us tomorrow. I’ll go along with Lewis to see what he can tell us,’ said Hotch once you all entered a more private area, guided by Chief Tucker. You took the furthest available seat, rushing to sit next to your boss at the other end of the table. ‘JJ, Morgan, what did you find in Claire’s room?’

‘Nothing out of the ordinary. Standard college dorm room: things everywhere, cork board filled with pictures, post-it notes and lists. She had a single room since she was a senior already. Her computer was missing and the staff said no one touched anything but the police. We found a couple of girls leaving flowers in front of her room; they were from her floor and were pretty shaken up but, from what they told us, she was a regular girl, responsible and had quite a few friends there,’ JJ told the team.

‘She broke up with her boyfriend of a year, Johnny Vega, also a senior, about a month ago. According to him, she had started to appear withdrawn and reject not only his advances but also refused to return his calls. He broke it off thinking that she had lost interest,’ Morgan continued.

‘This is consistent with what one of the girls told us before we went to see Johnny at his house. Her best friend there, Becca, said that she had noticed the change in Claire’s attitude but thought she was just stressed out because of the finals and having to work part time to pay for her student loans. The family didn’t realise something was wrong because it was typical of Claire to lose a bit of contact during this time of year,’ JJ finished their story, and Hotch nodded before he turned towards you and Rossi.

‘What were you able to find in Ellie Warren’s house?’

‘She was an organised lady, had a clean house and beautiful garden at the front. Nothing was out of place, but when we called Garcia to give her access to Ellie’s computer...,’ Rossi looked at you for help regarding the terminology.

‘Her internet history had been wiped clean using remote access. Penelope is trying to find out if it was Ellie herself who allowed that to happen and if it was done as a countermeasure in case of an investigation.’

‘We also found that, for the past six months, all of her savings were spent on her treatment for breast cancer until two weeks ago when she stopped going to her doctor’s appointment. Money was tight, but there’s probably another reason behind it.’

‘So, we already have two victims who were struggling with a personal problem, and this UnSub managed to lure them both. Anything from Arnold Greene’s apartment?’

‘Arnold was also struggling financially. He had been fired from a previous job and was working as a clerk in a local store. He needed whatever money he could get because, after his divorce last year, he was behind on his child maintenance payments. Ex wife said he was a good guy, and that they had a peaceful break-up, but he couldn’t keep a job for too long, one of the main reasons for their fights,’ Lewis explained the third victim’s situation.

‘At work, he was described as a quiet individual who arrived on time. His apartment was small and an absolute mess, which made it difficult to know whether someone had broken in and made it seem that way, or if the victim was actually living like that,’ Reid contributed with the retelling. ‘Although, his next door neighbour did say that he usually saw Arnold wearing clothes that weren’t particularly clean.’

‘And we encountered the same issue as Rossi and Grey‑Hart regarding the computer. In our case, not only was the internet history missing, there was nothing left on the machine. Garcia said there was nothing that she could do from the office, so our only hope to find something is in Ellie Warren’s computer.’

‘Alright. We’ll wait for Garcia to see if she can find anything on that end, and start working with the police for possible hideouts that these people may have,’ the chief nodded and got up when someone knocked on the door.

‘Chief, I’m sorry to interrupt but here are the pictures of all of the walls in the warehouse you asked for. The samples have already been sent to the lab,’ said the police woman, who left after handing the envelope over.

‘Agent Hotchner, here are the pictures,’ Hotch took them, avoiding touching the places where the chief had put his hands on. You suppressed a smirk until Hotch gave the envelope to you after he thanked him. Morgan raised an eyebrow, obviously enjoying the situation, and Reid furrowed his brow in sympathy for you.

‘I guess it’s my job, right?’ you took it and decided to drop the object on the table and grab the hand sanitizer you kept in your purse the moment the guy was called by someone for who knows what. Morgan couldn’t take it anymore and let his laughter roll free. You lowered your voice. ‘It’s not funny, you know? You could have warned me before I shook his hand!’

‘We all had to go through it, except for Pretty Boy, so chill, we’re all in the same boat here,’ he was still smiling from ear to ear.

‘Never mind,’ you sighed, took the pictures out of the envelope and started spreading them on the table. You were in the middle of organising them when Reid came to your side to help you out, and the chief came into the room again.

‘I’m sorry about that. Oh, I see you already took them out. They are supposed to be in order. I know you only wanted pictures of the symbols written in red but I figured a couple more wouldn’t hurt,’ he gave you a small smile.

‘Yes, that was very thoughtful of you. Thank you,’ you answered sincerely and looked down again.

You felt his eyes on you as Morgan and JJ worked on the map again. Rossi went to ask something to a police officer with Lewis and Hotch answered his phone and left the place. _From his tone of voice it’s probably Jack..._ , yet, your thoughts were interrupted by the chief again.

‘I don’t mean to be rude but, don’t you usually write from left to right?’ he had taken notice of the fact that you were organising the phrases in the opposite way.

Reid decided to reply for you.

‘That would be true here in what is considered the Occident or Western world, but many civilisations still write from right to left. In Japanese, as in other Asian languages, you can write in either direction, which means that any sentence would still be understood whether you wrote it from right to left, vertically, or left to right, horizontally. Whichever the case, a native speaker would still be able to make sense of it.’

The chief looked impressed by Reid’s speech. You had to hand it to him: you wouldn’t have been able to explain it like that; you would have gone straight to the point and hoped the guy got it on the first try.

‘Interesting. Ignore my question, then. Would you like me to bring in a white board for you to work with?’ he saw you had reached for a pen and a notebook from the pile sitting in the middle of the table.

‘Thank you, that would be really helpful actually,’ you told him, and he left immediately. He came back not a moment later with a white board and different colour markers. He was a very nice guy, despite the sweaty hands thing.

‘Thank you,’ Reid told him as you taped the pictures and started copying the phrases on the board, next to their corresponding photo, the place where they had been found and the name of the victim they were painted near to.

‘This is going to be a pain in the neck,’ you mumbled as he came to stand next to you once you finished.

‘We should begin then,’ he said and pulled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

It was barely 8 pm, but the night was just getting started for the BAU members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Another case! This was fun for me to explore and write about. Let me know what you guys think of this one :)
> 
> PS: I used to love Twilight as a teen, so please don't take these jokes as anything other than that. This is pretty much me making fun of myself, really.


	15. Duality

_“Yodomizu ni gomi tamaru (Trash accumulates in stagnant water).”_

– Japanese proverb

* * *

     A few hours, a multitude of online dictionaries, Japanese grammar websites and some fast food later, you had a translation of the three phrases that had been found in the scene. Hotch called everyone to the room, and Reid stepped aside to allow you to take centre stage.

     ‘Reid and I managed to come up with a translation for the phrases in the scene. The first one,’ you pointed at the first picture on the white board, the one which had “生せと死” on it, ‘reads: _“seise to shi”,_ which would mean “life and death”. This one was found, as you already know, painted above Claire’s body.’

     ‘Hers was the one closest to the door, right?’ Rossi asked.

     ‘Yes. That’s why we figured this phrase was the one we needed to start with,’ Reid provided as an explanation.

     ‘The second body was that of Ellie’s. The phrase painted next to hers was this one,’ you again used the board as visual aid; this time the symbols displayed were: “生まれては死ぬ”. ‘It reads: _“umarete wa shinu”,_ meaning: “to be born is to die”. This _could_ be related to the fact that Ellie was extremely sick. The third and final one was painted above Arnold’s body, the furthest from the main entrance of the building,’ you moved along the board so that you could point at the final picture with the symbols “永遠の死” on it. ‘This one would be: _“eien no shi”,_ or “eternal death” in English.’

     ‘I understand the connection between the second phrase and Ellie, but I don’t see how “life and death” could be related to Claire, or “eternal death” to Arnold,’ Morgan spoke once you finished.

     ‘In Arnold’s case, couldn’t it be that they were liberating him from a life filled with sufferings? The guy wasn’t having the best of times,’ Lewis added.

     ‘It could be considered a long stretch, but we think they are referring to being both dead and alive at the same time. We think these confirm our theory about vampires,’ Reid decided to step in again.

     ‘These guys, whoever they are, believe themselves to be a vampires and, maybe, managed to lure their victims with the promise of either financial aid, or maybe even eternal life to provide them with an “easy” exit for their problems. That’s probably how they got these people to become their blood donors,’ you explained your thought process.

     ‘Are we sure the phrases weren’t painted before all of this happened?’ JJ asked, still sceptical about the whole vampire theory.

     ‘We won’t be able to know for sure until the analysis are done, but they do look recent, and none of the usual artists that frequent the place has been able to identify who wrote them,’ Hotch sighed. ‘It’s already midnight. I don’t think we’ll be able to progress all that much tonight. Let’s get some rest and we’ll start early again tomorrow.’

     The team moved towards the exit. You were gathering your things and cleaning the table a little bit along with Reid. You two had made a mess with all of the papers you had used in your brief incursion into the Japanese language. You were both a little surprised when you saw Hotch come back into the room and address you.

     ‘Reid, Grey‑Hart, thank you for today. We’ll be able to determine if your theory holds true tomorrow. We should all go and sleep,’ he said and stood for the minute or two that took you to reorganise the place a bit.

     The team walked the two blocks to the hotel, and you were happy to be the last one in line because you got the only single room that was available. You offered it to Hotch, but he declined, saying that he was used to Rossi’s snores by now. The whole conversation then changed to everyone complaining about the others’ sleeping habits while you ascended the stairs to your rooms. It was entertaining to see them accusing each other of stealing the good beds, of snoring, of having smelly feet, etc. The list went on and on, and yet, they all had smiles on their faces.

     You and Lewis shared a look since you were the newest members of the team and shook your heads at the same time. It was nice knowing you were part of this crazy group of people who cared for each other as if they were an actual family.

 

* * *

     The following day you were woken up at 6 am by a knock on your door. You went to it, at first, feeling disoriented at being in a place that wasn’t your flat. You grabbed your blazer from the day before and put it on to cover your lack of upper undergarments and opened the door.

     ‘Grey‑Hart, another person has been killed. We need to go to the police station now,’ JJ informed you. She was already dressed and ready to go.

     ‘I’ll be down in five!’ you said as you grabbed the clothes you had prepared the night before and got into the bathroom.

     JJ closed the door of the room for you and went to knock on Morgan and Reid’s door and tell them the same thing. The team, minus Hotch and Lewis, gathered in the hotel’s lobby and headed back to the police station. You all set out to work from where you had left off until the others came back from the new scene, which was not too far from the first one.

     ‘They are sticking to a very particular area of town,’ Reid said, adding another pin to the map.

     ‘But there weren’t any vampire-related places around,’ Morgan joined him in that side of the room.

     JJ and Rossi came in then and brought the revitalising smell of coffee with them.

     ‘I’m gonna call Garcia,’ Morgan announced.

     ‘I’m here! I’m here!’ the tech analyst said after a couple of rings.

     ‘Baby girl, you fell asleep?’ Morgan had a smirk on his face.

     ‘There may or may not be some drool in my keyboard, that’s all I’m gonna say.’

     ‘Garcia,’ Reid said, ‘can you search the vicinity of the crime scenes to see if there are in fact any vampire covens?’

     ‘Oh, the doctor knows the terminology! How exciting!’ she answered as her fingers tapped the keys at super speed.

     ‘Why?’ his face showed he did not understand what the fascination with vampires was at all. He looked at you, hoping to get some answers, but you just shook your head as you smiled, letting him know that he didn’t want Penelope to start explaining the reasons behind _that._

     ‘Again, I’m coming up empty, guys,’ her voice sounded apologetic.

     ‘We’re definitely looking at this the wrong way,’ Reid said, sitting down and grabbing a cup of coffee. ‘We need to forget about the vampires for a while.’

     ‘But isn’t that the whole point of the blood and the creepy phrases?’ Rossi asked him.

     ‘No. We need to think of these people as regular, highly-sophisticated criminals and not as humans deluded by a fantasy. How do they find their victims? By chance? Striking a conversation in the middle of a coffee shop?’ his eyes very briefly drifted to your face and then continued on to look at the rest of his co-workers.

     ‘No, it cannot be _that_ random. There’s gotta be something, a website that allows these people to get in contact with their victims and separate the possible donors from the others,’ Morgan observed.

     ‘Garcia, are there any online forums or disguised clubs that could be the answer to this?’ JJ asked.

     ‘Okay, let’s expand the search... No, sorry, nothing online,’ she said after a minute.

     ‘How about churches?’ Rossi proposed.

     ‘Ah, I like the prospect of that... active or abandoned?’

     ‘Both, but focus on the abandoned buildings, since it seems to be the theme here,’ Reid said.

     ‘Alrighty, folks, fingers crossed... Yes! There are three abandoned churches that appear to be the centre of 911 calls made by neighbours. Apparently, different groups of teenagers went in to drink and have fun at night, but... none of these kids scream vampire fantasy time.’

     ‘When did these incidents happen?’ you asked her.

     ‘In late 2014 and early 2015. But, no worries, I shall keep looking, my doves. Call me or I’ll call you! Bye!’

     Just then, Hotch and Lewis returned, looking exhausted.

     ‘As you already know, there has been another murder. This time the victim was 27-year-old Eric Alston, a lawyer. We’ve just come back from the morgue and the doctor told us all four victims died of exsanguination through an IV,’ Hotch turned towards the team once he hung the picture of the fourth victim next to the others. ‘The body was again found by homeless people looking for shelter in the middle of the night in an abandoned apartment building near the first site. Mr Alston was also having difficulties: he was about to go bankrupt due to losing all the cases he handled last year.’

     ‘We were talking in the car,’ Lewis continued, ‘and neither of us thinks there’s anything sexual or romantic about these killings as we first thought.’

     ‘So, we should rule out vampirism?’ Morgan asked.

     ‘No, there is definitely something related to that world here, but not from the actual subculture in itself. For instance, how many cases have we worked on which involved individuals separating themselves from the safety that the lifestyle and these groups provide to pursue darker desires?’ Hotch asked the entire team but was actually looking at Reid, knowing that he would have the right answer.

     ‘Only two. And one of them was even prior to me being part of the BAU,’ Reid said, furrowing his brow in concentration, trying to remember any other cases.

     ‘Still, it’s not impossible for it to happen,’ Rossi admitted.

     ‘No, but the chances _are_ extremely low, even for only one person. Pretty much non-existent if we’re talking about several people distancing themselves from an organised group,’ Reid argued.

     ‘What if it’s only one UnSub that was kicked out of whichever group he belonged to?’ JJ proposed, gaining everyone’s attention. ‘And maybe now he’s trying to bring disgrace to them.’

     ‘We cannot forget about the money: he’s attracting people who are in desperate need of extra cash in order to fulfil the desires the former group rejected him for,’ Morgan said, getting a few nods from the team.

     ‘We’ll hold off the profile for a while longer, at least until we get some more evidence and the translation of the phrase that was painted on the wall where the body was found,’ Hotch told everyone and you nodded at him, while he handed the new pictures to you. ‘The doctor also said that the first tests on the blood from both the first scene and the phrases should be ready this afternoon, so let’s continue looking into our different leads.’

     You and Reid set out to work as you two had done the previous night. Despite the fact that this phrase was slightly longer than the others, now you were more used to the search and some of the characters were the same, so you two managed to have a translation in just under half an hour. The symbols written on the wall this time were: “生せと死、死は美しい、美しい”. You followed the symbols on the picture with your finger as you read them out.

     ‘These would be read as: _“seise to shi, shi wa utsukushii, utsukushii”,_ meaning: “life and death, death is beautiful, beautiful”. The same theme prevails... death is better than life,’ you allowed your hand to come down and turned around.

     ‘I just don’t see the connection with the victims,’ Morgan insisted.

     ‘Maybe there isn’t one,’ Rossi said, getting up from his seat and examining the board.

     ‘What do you mean?’ Hotch asked him.

     ‘Maybe there isn’t a logical connection. Maybe they’ve lost it completely and have disengaged from reality altogether.’

     ‘Then, this would confirm that this is not a team but someone with a multiple personality disorder?’ Lewis said.

     ‘It would explain how he manages to cover his tracks so well,’ JJ spoke next.

     ‘He’s probably trying to erase anything that may lead us back to him because he cannot cope with the compulsion for blood that his other personality has,’ Reid provided.

     ‘We’ll have a bigger problem if, or rather _when,_ his second personality tries to take over,’ Rossi warned Hotch with a look.

     ‘I’ll call the M.E. to see if he can tell me anything about the blood found in the scenes, but I think we’re ready to deliver the profile even without the results.’

 

* * *

     ‘We’re dealing with an individual that suffers from a multiple personality disorder and believes himself to be a vampire,’ Hotch told the police officers who had gathered in the main office in the station.

     ‘This means that when his second personality takes over, his rational mind gets forgotten and his compulsion, in this case his desire for blood, is what drives him to kill,’ JJ elaborated.

     ‘This compulsion is something that he has no control over and he _needs_ to fulfil it. The more he tries to ignore it, the harder it’ll get for him to maintain his second personality in check, which, consequently, means one victim won’t be enough to fulfil this need,’ Reid added.

     ‘That is probably why there were three victims in the first scene. He must’ve “starved” his other personality for a long time and that made him take so many risks,’ you said. ‘Then, when he came round, his rational mind decided to erase everything that had to do with the crime he _knew_ he had committed, and that’s the reason why he stole some of the victims’ computers and deleted any digital trace that may lead the investigation back to him.’

     ‘He did the same thing after killing the last victim, Eric Alston: he stole his cell phone and both his computers because he probably didn’t have time to check which device he needed to get rid of,’ Morgan continued explaining. ‘Unfortunately, because of his countermeasures, we haven’t been able to figure out how he contacts his victims or how he chooses them.’

     ‘Yet, we believe that he is luring people with the promise of financial aid since that is the only connection between our four victims so far: they were all struggling for money. They were vulnerable, and we believe he offered them money in exchange for something, probably their blood,’ Rossi commented.

     ‘Our main problem here is that this UnSub is a ticking bomb. He’s going to get to a point when, without the proper medical help, he won’t be able to control this second personality anymore and he’ll start showing signs of aggression at the smallest of things, like bumping into someone in the middle of the street,’ remarked Lewis.

     ‘Which is why we need to move forwards with this investigation as fast as we can. This person is not associated with the vampire subculture in any way, and he was most likely rejected by a group not too long ago because he must’ve shown signs of wanting to take his fantasies to another level. This rejection could have been the trigger that made him lose the little control he had over his second personality. We should all keep our eyes peeled and be extra vigilant. As we have said, he’s about to explode and, when he does, he’ll take as many people with him as he can. Thank you,’ finished Hotch.

     Once all the police officers got back to their tasks, Chief Tucker came forwards to talk to your boss.

     ‘Agent Hotchner, the M.E. said he would send the results of the tests in about an hour. Have you been able to find anything else?’ they had already reached the room where the team had set up.

     ‘Thank you, chief. And no, we haven’t. Do you know of any abandoned churches or buildings that could work as this UnSub’s hideout?’

     ‘Near the crime scenes?’

     ‘Not necessarily.’

     ‘Well, the city has a few ghost towns as you know, but they all work as touristic attractions.’

     ‘Any abandoned churches that have been the centre of attention in the last few years?’ Rossi asked him.

     ‘There is a church around here,’ he said pointing at a seemingly deserted area of the map, right in the middle of the two dumping sites, ‘that has given us quite a few headaches.’

     ‘Our tech analyst checked and found nothing there,’ Hotch said surprised.

     ‘Oh, that’s strange. This building has been abandoned for a _long_ time. Everyone swears it’s haunted and that they can hear weird noises at night,’ the chief said with a half smile. ‘Even I have been around that area at night, and let me tell ya, I got out of there as fast as my short legs could take me.’

     ‘Let’s call Garcia and ask her about this place,’ your boss instructed, and you made the call this time.

     ‘Hello, my gorgeous piece of British candy,’ she greeted you cheerfully.

     ‘Hi again, Penelope. The chief here says that there’s an abandoned church right in the middle of the two crime scenes,’ you told her the intersection and could hear her nails hitting the keyboard.

     ‘That’s weird... It didn’t show in my initial search, and I’m sure I double checked!’

     ‘Baby girl, remember that this UnSub knows how to hide himself and avoid being found,’ Morgan reassured her. ‘I can hear you typing, what are you looking for?’

     ‘Newspaper articles, police reports, anything and there’s nothing! No information about when it was built, when it was closed, _nada_ , zero!’

     ‘I can look for some of the hard copies of the emergency calls we’ve received about that place. We keep those records in the old storage room,’ Chief Tucker said and turned around at the door. ‘Give me a few minutes; it’s a mess down there.’

     ‘Garcia,’ Hotch addressed her, ‘have you been able to retrieve any information from Ellie Warren’s computer?’

     ‘No, sir, nothing so far. I even called Kevin to come help me to see if it was me, but he came up empty-handed as well. He’s double checking now but-’

     ‘It’s okay, thank you.’

     ‘Garcia, are there any satellite images of that church that you could access?’ Reid asked her next.

     ‘Let me see... Yes, sending it now to your tablets.’

     ‘Alright, call us if you can find anything else,’ Hotch told her.

     ‘Will do, sir!’

     ‘It really looks deserted,’ JJ commented and you went to stand behind her seat. Even from the aerial shot, all you could see was an old building with cracked windows and vegetation coming out of the holes in the glass. The whole area seemed isolated, even though it was in the corner of what looked like a typical suburban neighbourhood.

     ‘The stories of the place being haunted would be the perfect cover-up to keep strangers from wandering inside the property,’ Reid remarked.

     ‘But it would also attract adventurous people,’ you argued.

     ‘I’m sure he knows of all the little nooks and crannies where he can hide if someone does wander in,’ Lewis commented.

     Chief Tucker returned with another officer behind him, each with a box in their arms.

     ‘Here are the reports about that church,’ he said opening the box he had been carrying and passing the papers to Reid, who had come to stand next to him.

     The genius sat down and started reading through them at his usual fast speed. The chief’s jaw became unhinged and couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, especially when he saw Reid reach for the contents of the second box not even five minutes since he came back into the room.

     ‘You get used to it,’ Morgan told him, putting a hand on his shoulder, which made him come back to reality.

     ‘Is he actually reading?’ he asked the team in a whisper.

     ‘Yes, he’s able to read 20,000 words per minute,’ Hotch told him, trying not to smile at the guy’s expression.

     ‘Okay,’ Reid said, finally standing up. ‘The place has been allegedly empty for about a century and there have been about a hundred and fifty calls regarding this church in the past fifty years; but, the highest number of calls was actually last year: neighbours reported hearing weird noises, dogs howling and people screaming in the middle of the night. A man even said that he saw someone wearing dark clothes leaving the property once, but the police disregarded his statement when they arrived and saw that he was drunk.’

     ‘This gotta be our UnSub,’ Rossi said to the group.

     ‘Alright, everybody get ready. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes,’ Hotch instructed, and everyone went to get their vests.

     This time around, you were riding along with Hotch, Rossi and Lewis while Reid, JJ and Morgan were in the other car. It was going to be at least a forty-five minute drive since it was in the opposite side of the city. The M.E. called Lewis while in the car and told her that the blood in the scenes was actually animal blood; yet, the blood used to paint the phrases on the walls was definitely human, but it did not belong to any of the victims and it wasn’t in any data bases.

     ‘It has to be his. This must be his first time committing a crime,’ Morgan said once Rossi called them.

     ‘It was probably too much for him to handle, and that’s when he started dissociating himself from reality,’ Reid mentioned.

     ‘We need to be careful-,’ Hotch started to say when Penelope called you. She connected all the calls so that both cars could hear her.

     ‘Sir! I think I found something!’ she sounded desperate and continued before anyone could reply. ‘This guy is good at hiding his tracks, but I managed to unbury some info on the church’s old owners. It was closed over a century ago after the priest there was arrested for performing an exorcism that ended up on the poor girl’s death. The property belonged to the priest’s family and it was passed on to his brother, who never did anything with it, and now it belongs to a Richard Cole. A thirty-year-old who has been unemployed for the past six months.’

     ‘Was he fired from his last job?’ Rossi asked her.

     ‘Yes. He started showing signs of aggression towards his colleagues at the office and ended up being fired after he had a “heated argument” with his boss in a meeting. He then lost his apartment, withdrew all of his money from his bank account shortly after and that’s when the trace goes cold.’

     ‘That could have been the trigger: he was already isolated from society, if the group he frequented kicked him out as well...,’ Lewis trailed off.

     ‘Thank you, Garcia, we’re almost there,’ Hotch told her.

     ‘Please, be careful!’ she said before hanging up.

     After ten more minutes, you made it to the place, followed by two police cars and an ambulance. Hotch instructed everyone on where to go and you approached the building carefully. Your gun was raised and your heart was beating fast. Morgan was in front of you, and Rossi and Lewis were trailing close behind you. You had been assigned to take the front, while JJ, Reid and Hotch took the back and the police closed the perimeter to avoid any of the people in the area to get hurt since it was just past noon.

     Morgan kicked the door in after it wouldn’t bulge, and you walked in with your torch and gun at the ready as you turned right and followed along a dark corridor. Lewis and Morgan kept going straight and Rossi took the left corridor on his own. It was mostly silent and you were wondering if the guy was even in there. You all met at the back of the altar and opened another door which led to two spiral staircases: one up to the first floor and another to the basement. You and Rossi went up, while Morgan and Lewis went down.

     Once you finally reached the top of the stairs, you had to push open a trap door which led to a circular room with no windows. On the floor, there was a mattress, dirty clothes scattered around and empty bags of food, along with other personal belongings.

     ‘This must be the master bedroom,’ Rossi said, lowering his gun and looking around.

     ‘Rossi,’ you called him as you crouched down and picked up a bloody t-shirt with a glove you took from a back pocket.

     ‘Now, that’s-,’ his comment was cut off by the sound of commotion coming from downstairs and a door hitting the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All the phrases in Japanese were taken from a song by Good Charlotte, "Once Upon a Time: The battle of Life and Death". (Obviously, for the sake of the plot, I ignore the fact that it even exists!)
> 
> I would imagine that the phrase “永遠の死” (“eien no shi”) could be taken as “the eternity of death” or even “the immortality of death”, but that's how I found it translated so, just in case, I didn't want to change it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! The case will be wrapped up in the next chapter :) Have a nice week, guys!


	16. Erosion

_“Water is the softest thing, yet it can penetrate mountains and earth. This shows clearly the principle of softness overcoming hardness.”_

– Lao Tzu

* * *

     You bolted down the stairs and saw Morgan half carrying Lewis up from the basement.

     ‘He was hiding downstairs and attacked Lewis when she walked in. He threw me against the wall and escaped through the back door,’ he said in between ragged breaths.

     As Rossi came down from the upper floor and helped them, you took off through the back door. You met up with Hotch, told him what had happened, and you both started running around the back of the property and into an alley. If the UnSub had gone that way, you would find him. You heard footsteps to your right and raised your weapon, only to be met with the end of JJ’s gun. You both lowered your arms, and you saw Reid coming behind her through another alley; the three of you turned around to assist Hotch in the search. You were all silent as you walked; the only sound coming from your shoes against the pavement.

     And then you heard it: rattling metal. All four of you resumed the run down the alley and turned left, following the sound. You saw a guy dressed all in black already on the other side of a metal fence. There was no way the four of you were going to get over that fast enough, so Hotch shot the lock and forced the gate open.

     The chase continued onto the main street and for six more blocks until the UnSub, tired of zigzagging back and forth through the streets, reduced his speed and came to a halt once he reached the end of another alley and knew he had no way out.

     ‘Richard Cole, FBI!’ Hotch yelled, his voice steady. If you hadn’t had the UnSub in front of you, you would have asked Hotch how he wasn’t puffing air into his lungs like you were trying to do. Your chest hurt from the exertion.

     ‘I’m sorry, agent, but that’s not _my_ name,’ Richard spoke in a low voice as he turned around, and you thought he was probably taller than Reid. Had you been alone, his figure would’ve been intimidating.

     ‘Then, what’s _your_ name?’ Hotch asked him.

     ‘My name is Sakki,’ he spoke more confidently as he bowed before you, ignoring the four guns aimed at him.

     ‘Alright, Sakki,’ JJ holstered her gun and tried to approach him from the right, ‘we need you to come with us-’

     He interrupted her by showing her his teeth and hissing, as if he were a cat threatening its attacker. _The guy even filed his canines_ , you noticed as you took a step forwards, trying to shield JJ from him, while Hotch approached him from the other side.

     ‘Are you aware of what you’ve done, Sakki?’ Hotch tried again.

     ‘I did not kill them! They accepted my terms and came to me willingly!’

     ‘You _drained_ them, Sakki. They wouldn’t have been able to survive the process, you know that,’ he continued advancing.

     ‘No! The others survived!’

     ‘The others?’ Reid asked him.

     ‘Yes. The others were strong. The last ones were too weak! Even my lovely Claire...’

     Hotch took advantage of the UnSub getting distracted by Reid’s question and managed to handcuff Sakki. He struggled against Hotch’s hold as he told him his rights and kept baring his teeth all the way back to the church. Once inside the police car, he seemed to go back to being Richard Cole and cried the entire ride back to the police station.

     While still in the building, you were able to see the basement and Cole’s set-up to extract the blood from his donors. He had a computer down there, along with the latest victim’s stolen objects.

     ‘He probably didn’t have enough time to destroy them,’ Morgan said as he came to stand next to you and Rossi, who hadn’t had a chance to take a look downstairs either.

     ‘According to Garcia, he sold them if he didn’t have a clear enough head to erase any evidence of the victims withdrawing money from their bank accounts. He used the good old fashioned classified ad section in a local newspaper to lure his victims.’

     ‘You’re kidding?’ Morgan replied.

     ‘No. We are _way_ too used to technology, you know? I think-’

     ‘Guys, I don’t mean to be rude but, can we continue this conversation outside? The stench is making me dizzy,’ you said after you wrote down the symbols painted in red on the back wall.

     They nodded and followed you out while they kept talking. Outside, you saw Lewis getting cleared by the paramedics, so the team then returned to the police station to finish filing paperwork, checked out of the hotel and were on the jet by four o’clock. Hopefully, you would arrive right on time for dinner and maybe you could even squeeze in a little chat with your mum, which is why you texted her to ask her if she would be available later.

     It was an hour into the flight when you needed to get up and go to the bathroom. Since you had chosen a window seat, you had to bother Reid in order to get out. He had chosen to sit next to you again because he knew you probably wouldn’t fall asleep and he was more comfortable sitting next to someone who would stay awake rather than worrying he would disturb whoever was next to him if they were resting.

     When he sat back down, he noticed what you had scribbled down while in the basement. He had seen the characters as well and remembered them: “吸血鬼は永遠に生きる約束された”. He recognised some of them from your joint investigation during the case but, he didn’t understand the grammatical form since you had focused on that aspect of the search. You saw him reading your little black notebook and pretended you were upset with him for doing so. You touched his shoulder and moved your hand to make him get up once more.

     Once you got into your seat, you moved the notebook back in front of you, since he had moved it in order to look at the symbols more closely. He looked down to the open book on his lap, thinking you were actually mad at him.

     ‘Reid?’ your tone was soft, and he looked up confused by it. ‘It’s okay; I knew you would try to read it if you saw my notes,’ you smiled as you said it, and he did the same.

     ‘Do you know what it means?’

     ‘Yes. I did a little research before we left the station, and these characters would be read as: “ _Kyuuketsuki wa eien ni ikiru yakusoku sareta_ ”, which roughly translates to: “The vampire lives eternally, for it was promised so”. And, his vampire name, Sakki?’ you asked as you turned the page to show him the other two characters you had seen painted below the phrase in the basement: “殺気”, and he nodded. ‘It means “thirsty for blood”. Pretty accurate, I’d say.’

     ‘You know, it’s weird that he would choose that language to express his innermost desires since there aren’t actual vampires as we know them here in the Western world in classical Japanese legends.’

      _‘I know!_ I’ve read mostly about _youkai_ , the term they use for ghosts, apparitions or any supernatural phenomenon.’

     ‘Yes! They have a fascinating classification. Sakki, I think, would fall in the _kyonshii_ category since...’

     The conversation moved from Japanese folklore, to Norse and Greek mythology and, somehow, came full circle again when you started talking about Native American legends regarding vampires. This, however, didn’t happen until you were in front of your flat, each with your keys in hand.

     ‘So,’ he said but made no attempt to enter his place. ‘I guess I’ll see you in a couple of days.’

     ‘Yes,’ you told him as you opened your door. ‘Or... maybe we could go to a bookstore tomorrow and you can check _Twilight_ out and be as horrified as my teenage self was,’ you proposed with a smile.

     ‘Deal,’ he laughed. He bid you goodnight and disappeared behind his door.

     You then went about your evening: the first thing you did was grab one of the many meals you had prepared for these kinds of days from your freezer and reheated it as you waited for your computer to boot up so that you could talk to your mum.

     You congratulated her on the new place and updated her on your life. However, since it was almost midnight in Cambridge, you were unable to chat for long, but she promised to call you the next day. You had a quick shower and called it an early night. You were exhausted as usual after the case, especially due to the fact that you had slept for only five hours the night before _and_ had been running around chasing that guy for quite a while.

     Sleep overtook you rather quickly, and you dreamed of shiny vampires with brown locks but hazel eyes instead of golden orbs.

 

* * *

 _At the bookstore_ (Thursday, afternoon)

     ‘This is appalling,’ he said from his side of the booth.

     You had decided to visit a bookstore and coffee shop not too far from your building. It was around 3 pm, and you could barely contain your laughter after each of his outbursts. He had reached the point when Edward takes Bella to the meadow and shows her what happens when the sun shines down his _marble_ body.

     ‘I _did_ warn you, you know?’ you smiled at him as you sipped your latte.

     ‘You did,’ he smiled back despite his previous reaction, ‘but you never said he _sparkles_ when he is hit by a mere ray of sunshine. The guy is seventeen, immortal, has super strength and all the time in the world to learn whatever he wants but _behold!_ The drawback is that he, literally, _shines_.’

     The look he gave you was just too much, and you couldn’t help but laugh again. You were trying to keep it down so as not to disturb the customers roaming about the store, but then he joined you and you were gone. About a minute or so later, and a few dirty looks from the other patrons, you both calmed down, and you wiped the few tears that had escaped your eyes.

     ‘Ah, thank you, Reid. I haven’t laughed like that in a while,’ you had grabbed a little mirror from your purse and were checking if the tears had damaged the little make-up you had put on. You missed how his smile faltered for a second.

     ‘I’m glad I could help, even if it means my mind will be forever scarred by the images described in this book.’

     ‘Oh, but wait, you have to watch the movie now.’

      _‘What?!_ No, no, no, no. My imagination is more than capable of-’

     ‘No, Reid. Believe me, you _have to_ watch it!’ he was unconvinced. ‘Come on! We’ll watch it over dinner and talk throughout the whole thing.’

     ‘What do you mean “talk”? Won’t I be watching the movie?’

     ‘You will be, but there are so many... You know what? _Spoilers!_ You’ll understand later,’ you finished your coffee and gave him another smile.

     He pretended to think about it but, really, who was he kidding? He was going to agree anyway, as long as it made you happy... even if it meant suffering through a movie clearly aimed at teenage girls.

     ‘Fine, but only if I get to choose what we’ll watch next time,’ he told you with a smile of his own; he was trying to ignore his heart hammering inside his chest as he waited for your response.

     ‘Deal,’ you answered and stuck your little finger across the table. He extended his own hand and you sealed the promise. He laughed at the childish gesture but was delighted at seeing you smile so much in one afternoon. He couldn’t admit it to himself yet but, he was oddly proud at being the one who got you to laugh like that. He continued reading in silence as you wandered off in search of a book you had been meaning to add to your collection for a while.

     By the time you got back with your purchase, he had already finished the whole novel. You left the store and enjoyed the peaceful afternoon around the park instead of going back home right away. You were both silent but content, each in your own little bubbles, as you stared at the lake from a bench not too far from the shore: you were thinking of your family and imagining what you would be doing right then if you had moved to England with your mum; Reid, on the other hand, was thinking of other ways to get you to laugh like before... without a care in the world.

     You went your separate ways until it was time for dinner. He came around at 7.30 and you ordered pizza, so that you could eat it while watching the movie. Once it arrived, you got settled on the couch and pressed play. Reid was criticising the movie as much as the book, but this time the acting fell victim to his opinions. Yet, the fact that his comments made you either giggle or laugh hysterically was making it all worth it for him.

     ‘Oh, no, the meadow scene,’ he murmured and tried to hide his face behind one of his hands.

     ‘Oh, _goodie!_ Wait until you see the special effect they used,’ you were eyeing him more than the TV. His reactions, now that you were in your living room and not in the bookstore, were getting much louder.

     ‘That’s no special effect! That’s _glitter!_ Oh my God!’ you burst out laughing, and he suddenly turned his head to face you. ‘It’s not funny!’

     ‘Actually, it kind of is,’ you told him in between breaths.

     ‘I can’t believe you convinced me to read the book _and_ watch the movie all in the same day. I don’t think my brain can take it.’

     ‘Man, with your brain? That’s really saying something.’

     He _tried_ to glare at you, but that only made you laugh even harder. You were practically crying at that point, both completely ignoring the scene playing on TV, and he had to admit... your laugh was something he was becoming more and more fond of.

 

* * *

 _Quantico_ (Friday, around 3 pm)

     ‘Vampire baseball? Seriously? What is that? What’s the point of including that other than having the characters show off their abilities in front of a human?’ it was the next day, and he was still not over some of the aspects of the story. ‘I mean, I understand it was her way of introducing the bad guys to them, but really, there are better ways to advance the plot.’

     You had decided to take a little break from all of the paperwork, and Reid had followed you with his own cup of coffee in hand as you took Penelope’s afternoon tea to her office down the hall.

     ‘Thank you, doll face! I take it he hates the vampire world now?’ Penny said, trying to suppress her smile but failing miserably. She had heard Reid’s comments as you two walked to her office.

     ‘Big time,’ you said as you leaned against the desk and blew lightly to cool your tea, and Reid sat down in the only other available chair.

     ‘I don’t _hate_ the vampire world, I... am heavily critical of _that_ particular story,’ you noticed Reid tended to avoid saying the word “hate” when it came to books. You guessed it was because he just loved literature so much.

      _‘Please!_ You should have seen his face when he saw Edward sparkling in the sunlight,’ you told Penny, whose cup stopped its ascent halfway through to her mouth.

     ‘What do you mean “when he saw”?’

     ‘I mean that we watched _Twilight_ while stuffing our faces with pizza yesterday,’ you shrugged, not thinking too much of it.

     ‘Huh, I would have never pictured our resident genius enjoying a quiet evening with a teenage movie playing in the background,’ Penny said as she swivelled around in her chair to examine Reid’s reaction. She knew it: he was getting slightly flustered.

     ‘I-I don’t see why not,’ he took a sip of his coffee, made a face and stood up from his chair. ‘You know what this coffee is lacking? More sugar,’ and then he abruptly left the office.

     ‘That’s weird. I could’ve sworn he had filled the bottom of the mug with enough sugar to clog his blood stream,’ you furrowed your brow and kept your gaze on the open door where he had been just a moment ago.

     ‘Maybe it was getting a little too hot in here for him,’ Penelope mumbled, as she continued nursing her cup.

     ‘What?’ you asked, not sure you had heard her correctly.

     ‘Nothing, doll! So tell me, how’s your mum doing?’ she decided to change the subject before you became suspicious but, she also made a mental note to text both Savannah and Blake, the only two who knew of her plans.

     ‘She’s doing great, actually! Of course, I can tell that some days...’

     You stayed in Penelope’s lair for ten more minutes and then got back to your desk. Reid was already there, immersed in a sea of papers as usual. You went back to your own pile of mindless work and made some small talk with both JJ and Lewis, but not a word was heard from Reid. He only hummed or mumbled his answers when JJ asked him something directly. The three of you looked at each other but decided to let it slide since you knew he didn’t like to be forced to talk sometimes. JJ took her opportunity to corner him, however, when you and Lewis left the bullpen before the work day came to an end.

     ‘Okay, Spence, what’s up? You’ve been quiet since you came back from Garcia’s office. Is something wrong?’ she asked as she perched herself on the edge of his desk, concern evident in her voice.

     ‘No, no, nothing to worry about,’ he said, not looking up.

     ‘But something _is_ wrong, then.’

     ‘It’s not “wrong” per se, it’s just... something that I need to deal with on my own. But nothing major,’ he said, this time looking up and connecting his eyes with hers.

     ‘Are you sure? Remember that we’re all here for you if you need us,’ she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a bit. He smiled in return and put his own hand on top of hers.

     JJ nodded at him and went back to her own desk as you and Lewis came back from the bathroom. You were both so engrossed in your conversation that neither of you noticed Rossi and Morgan coming out of their offices. They exchanged a few words, and Morgan smiled and nodded before making his way to knock on Hotch’s door. Rossi, then, walked down into the bullpen to talk to the group there.

     ‘Hey, it’s been a while since the last family dinner and neither Lewis nor Grey-Hart have ever been to one. What do you say to some pasta tomorrow night? My place,’ Rossi proposed with a lopsided smile once you were all gathered around Reid’s desk.

     There were nods from everyone, but Rossi’s eyes were focused on you and Lewis, who was standing next to you.

     ‘Sure,’ you replied.

     ‘I’m free, so count me in,’ Lewis responded.

     ‘Great, I’ll go convince the boss man then,’ the senior agent said with a certain step to his walk.

     You laughed quietly at his antics; he was a child at heart. When he came out of Hotch’s office, he gave you all a thumbs up and continued to his own office to finish his work.

     Half an hour later, you were waiting for Reid to gather his stuff while you chatted with Penelope about the upcoming dinner –Morgan had been the one to tell her about it– and she had joined you a few minutes ago on her way out. Rossi happened to walk by and, before he reached the lifts, he addressed you.

     ‘I don’t know if anyone has told you, but you need to dress up for Saturday.’

     ‘What?’

     ‘Yes, dress to impress, Grey-Hart!’ he said as the doors closed in front of his face, and you were left with a few questions regarding the dress code.

     ‘What does he mean “dress to impress”? I thought it was just a casual dinner with you guys?’ the last bit came out more as a question than a statement.

     ‘Yes and no,’ came a male voice from behind you. Reid had finished organising his desk and was now standing next to you two. ‘I once went with the appropriate clothes for a fancy dinner but I was wearing converse like I usually do instead of dress shoes, and he didn’t let me inside the house for a good twenty minutes.’

     ‘You’re kidding me?’ you couldn’t hide your surprise. You three started moving towards the lift and stepped inside once it arrived a second later.

     ‘Oh, no, he’s not. Rossi is an excellent cook and host but... he can get really paranoid about proper dinner protocol and attire.’

     ‘Good thing I can still fit into some of the dresses I used to wear to my dad’s Embassy parties, then,’ you mumbled.

     ‘You used to go to Embassy parties?’ Penelope asked you; she loved getting new information about anyone, especially when it came to her beloved team members.

     ‘Yeah, just a few a year, really. The Christmas ones were, by far, the best.’

     ‘I thought you were not very religious,’ Reid told you, furrowing his brow.

     ‘Oh, I am not. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a good meal and being served throughout the entire night,’ you answered with a smile.

     ‘I would’ve liked to be treated like that as a teen,’ Penny commented as the doors of the lift opened at the parking lot.

     ‘Not really. Even if the food _was_ good –and let me repeat myself, it was _so good_ –, it was a hassle. I had to pretend to like being surrounded by upper-class citizens who didn’t really have to work all that much and hear them complain about their “harsh” lives. I mostly wanted to punch them all in the face the minute they came to talk to me.’

     ‘Ah, the complicated life of a diplomat’s daughter,’ she was teasing you.

 _‘So_ troublesome. I even had to match the colour of my dress and my nail polish,’ you joked.

     ‘Ugh, Lord have mercy,’ she laughed at your comment before saying goodbye and moving towards her own car.

     ‘Shall we?’ you asked Reid as you unlocked the doors. When you were both buckled up, you started the car and left Quantico in comfortable silence.

     You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but decided to ignore it for a while. He obviously wanted to ask you something but didn’t know how. You turned on the radio, as usual, and were mumbling the lyrics to a pop song that had started playing when he spoke.

     ‘Grey-Hart, I don’t want to offend you but... how much of what you were saying earlier was true?’

     ‘I’m... sorry?’ you glanced at him briefly and saw his serious expression looking back at you.

     ‘Just now, when you and Garcia were joking about the parties you used to go to, you said you enjoyed some parts of them.’

     ‘Well, yes, I did. I was able to go shopping and get pampered. My mum used to take me to get my hair and nails done, and we got a chance to enjoy some quality time together outside the house. And then, the whole aspect of being served I mentioned?’ you saw him nodding. ‘That was just an added bonus, since I was so used to doing things for me and my family around the house. Truthfully, I hated the parties themselves and having to socialise with those people.’

     ‘Why did you hate them?’

     ‘Like I said, it was all a big game for the adults to play. They would all come and greet my father, paid compliments to me and my mum as if we were incapable of doing anything else than stand there and be praised. And the women! They were so superficial sometimes. I once had to repeat a dress because I’d had no time buy one, and I honestly didn’t care all that much, plus I considered it a complete waste of money because I had perfectly good dresses in my wardrobe already... but anyway, they basically humiliated me in front of the other guests.’

     ‘Really?’ his tone was one of surprise.

     ‘Yes. That was one of the last parties I attended somewhat willingly. Then, I only went when my dad asked me to because someone important was going to be there. The whole “happy family” portrait and all that, I guess. It may sound fake coming from someone who was born into a world of privileges, but I’ve always been happier when I have to fend for myself and I take pride in my accomplishments, you know?’

     ‘No, I get it, I don’t think it’s fake but... you have never mentioned these things before, and I’m guessing that what you just told me is part the reason.’

     ‘Yes. I... I just don’t like people making assumptions about me based on the little bubble I grew up in, you know? It’s happened once or twice in college, and I want the team to judge me based on what I’m capable of doing, on my degrees, as well as on my weak points.’

     ‘Commendable,’ he laughed a little, and you smiled as you kept your eyes on the road. ‘But you know, as far as our team goes, they won’t _ever_ judge you based on your background. If anything, it will make them like you, admire you or respect you even more.’

     ‘Thank you, Reid,’ you turned your head and smiled again when you stopped the car at a red light. ‘That’s exactly why I shared that with Penny, actually. After seeing how you all helped me at the house and how you continue advising me, and just accept me as an equal, it’s...,’ you trailed off as the light turned green and you moved the car forwards.

     ‘New? Refreshing? Indescribable? Amazing?’ he provided as options.

     ‘All of the above!’

     ‘I’m glad!’ he continued to smile as he glanced out of the window, occasionally directing his eyes towards your profile, until an idea popped into his head. ‘Hey, do you have any plans for tomorrow?’

     ‘Other than dinner and maybe calling my mum for a proper chat, I’m free. What did you have in mind?’

     ‘I’m still trying to find those Russian books I told you about, don’t know if you’ll remember but-’

     ‘Ostrovsky and Akunin?’

     ‘Yes... I think it’s the first time someone actually remembers the authors I’ve talked about.’

     ‘Well, I may or may not have written them down as possible gifts options for you... you know, for when you helped out in the house?’

     ‘Right. It’s still a first, though,’ he saw you smile a little to yourself due to his comment.

     ‘Alright, we are almost home,’ you said, and the word made Reid feel those damn butterflies in his stomach that seemed to appear whenever he was with you, ‘is there anything you need from the store? I may need to make a quick stop now so that I can be truly free tomorrow.’

     ‘Sure, no problem,’ he tried to put on a smile.

     It was unconvincing but it worked at least, since you were too preoccupied with getting your purse from the back seat and locking the car door before he went in with you into the supermarket that was not too far from the block of flats. You both made a small purchase and continued on as you chatted about work, mainly. You then said goodbye as usual in the landing that separated your homes.

     Later that night, Reid could hear you singing softly through the wall, not loud enough to disturb the neighbours but loud enough for him to distinguish your voice clearly, though the lyrics were completely lost to him. He dozed off on the couch listening to your voice as it lulled him to slumber. Although he was still dressed in his work clothes, for the first time in a while, he slept soundly throughout the entire night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was almost five thousand words. Oh dear! I hope you enjoyed it! :) 
> 
> Comments, as usual, are more than welcomed! ^^


	17. Indentation

_“Lo que mucha gente llama amar consiste en elegir una mujer y casarse con ella. La eligen, te lo juro, los he visto. Como si se pudiera elegir en el amor, como si no fuera un rayo que te parte los huesos y te deja estaqueado en la mitad del patio. Vos dirás que la eligen porque-la-aman, yo creo que es al vesre. A Beatriz no se la elige, a Julieta no se la elige. Vos no elegís la lluvia que te va a calar hasta los huesos cuando salís de un concierto”._

– _Rayuela_ , de Julio Cortázar

_“What a lot of people call loving consists of picking out a woman and marrying her. They pick her out, I swear, I’ve seen them. As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard. You’ll probably say that they pick her out because-they-love-her, I think it’s just the siteoppo. Beatrice wasn’t picked out, Juliet wasn’t picked out. You don’t pick out the rain that soaks you to the skin when you come out of a concert.”_

–  _Hopscotch_ , by Julio Cortázar

* * *

 _At your flat_ (Saturday, 10 am)

 _Knock on door. I should open the door_. Against your better judgement, you went to open it in a... poor state: you were wearing a t-shirt and a cardigan along with your bright blue pyjama [bottoms](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/146557776681/wutb-outfits-chapter-17) and fluffy slippers.

     ‘M _sho_ shorry, Reid,’ you said the moment your eyes landed on your colleague but, because you still had your toothbrush in your mouth, only an unintelligible mumble came out.

     Reid was letting his eyes roam your form as you retreated towards your bathroom once again, not really wanting him to see you drooling on yourself trying to apologise. His only reaction was to shake his head in amusement as he closed the door behind him and stood next to your fancy coffee maker sitting on one of the few kitchen counters. You came out of the bathroom a minute later –no tooth paste or drool in sight– and gave it another try.

     ‘I’m _so_ sorry Reid, I overslept. I could’ve sworn I set the alarm last night but today-’

     ‘Hey, it’s okay,’ his smile was sincere, and you felt a little bit relieved. You had been afraid he would cancel your plans to go book hunting. You knew he liked being punctual as much as he liked being right. ‘Is... that what you’re planning on wearing today?’

     ‘Haha, you’re funny, but no. I was in the middle of changing out of my pyjamas when you knocked, and, well, you saw the rest,’ you sighed, but out of frustration at your own reaction. ‘So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a few more minutes to make myself look presentable. Make yourself at home.’

     You were almost at your bedroom door when his voice made you look at him over your right shoulder.

     ‘Hey, does that include preparing some coffee?’ his eyes had lit up, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

     ‘As long as there’s enough for the two of us! There should be a couple of travel mugs in the top left cupboard if you feel like having breakfast on the way,’ he was already making the coffee by the time you finished the first sentence and only hummed to let you know he had heard the rest.

     You took about ten minutes to [get ready](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/146557776681/wutb-outfits-chapter-17), and, by the time you exited your bedroom, the smell of coffee had slowly filled the living room. You took your travel mug from the counter, since Reid had his already, and you both made your way down the stairs. You had agreed to walk, so you decided to wear comfortable shoes. You honestly didn’t want your feet to ache from all the walking you were going to do if you chose to wear heels that night to go to Rossi’s.

     ‘Alright, I’m sure you know this, but the first location is just two blocks away in this direction,’ you told him, pointing to your left as you reached the corner.

     ‘You... researched this?’ he couldn’t hide his surprise.

     ‘Of course! If _you_ were unable to find these books, doc, it was the least I could do,’ you shrugged and started walking towards the first bookstore that you knew sold foreign books and not just translations. You turned around once you saw that Reid was no longer next to you. ‘Reid?’

     ‘Is “doc” my new nickname?’ he asked you as he caught up with you in just a few strides.

     ‘Sorry, does it bother you? I figured it was better than “pretty boy” and “boy genius”. There was another one that Penelope used the other day...’

     ‘She does like to call me “boy wonder”,’ he said, a pained expression in his face as he remembered.

     ‘That one!’ you laughed a little and took a sip of your coffee as you waited for the street lights to change. ‘So, you didn’t answer my question. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop,’ you told him seriously. The last thing you wanted to do was to make him uncomfortable.

     ‘No, don’t worry. Although it does make me feel kind of old, you know?’ he smiled as he took a long drink from his own mug.

     You knew what he was referring to and so you decided to have fun with him once you made it to the store and you two were inspecting the bookshelves. You actually stepped in front of him, looking confused.

 _‘“Whoa. Wait a minute, Doc. Are you trying to tell me that my mother has got the hots for me?”’_ you said in your best American accent.

 _‘“Precisely,”’_ he answered as he walked past you.

_‘“Whoa. This is heavy.”’_

_‘“There's that word again. ‘Heavy.’ Why are things so heavy in the future? Is there a problem with the Earth's gravitational pull?”’_ he couldn’t put his hand in his pocket due to the mug but, he still moved the other one around in the air, imitating [Doctor Brown](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Urg-EqR-pHc) from _Back to the Future._

     You looked at each other briefly and then burst out laughing. The owner was the only other person in the store in that moment, and he just smiled at the two of you as you made your way to the counter, both of you trying to regain some composure.

     ‘What can I do to help you?’ he asked politely.

     ‘Morning! We were wondering if you had any works by Ostrovsky or Akunin in Russian,’ you said as the owner turned to type the names in his computer.

     ‘Any titles in particular?’

     ‘ _How the Steel Was Tampered_ and _Murder of the Leviathan_ , respectively,’ answered Reid.

     ‘I’m sorry,’ the owner said after a minute or so of searching, ‘there aren’t any books by either of those authors available at the moment. But I may be able to get _Murder of the Leviathan;_ however, provided I find it first, I cannot tell you the exact date it would arrive.’

     ‘Do you maybe have a phone number so that we can contact you in a couple of days?’ you asked him. You didn’t want him to go through the trouble of getting the book if you may get it later.

     ‘Sure, here you go,’ he handed you a small card, and you put it inside your purse.

     You and Reid then thanked the owner for his time and left the store.

     ‘One down, four more to go. Come on, doc!’ you told him, rushing to cross the street at the last second before the lights changed.

     He followed you quickly and was laughing along with you due to the little rush of adrenaline it gave him.

     ‘Hey! You shouldn’t do that!’

     ‘What? Cross the street at the last minute or leave you behind?’ you enjoyed teasing him, you noticed.

     ‘Both! At least warn me next time, okay?’ he was still grinning as he tried to catch his breath.

     ‘Deal. Where to, doc? There is another store through this street,’ you pointed to your right as if you were a flight attendant, ‘which is twelve blocks away, making it the furthest in terms of walking distance, or-’

     ‘Let’s go to that one first. I know the others, and they’re much closer,’ you dropped your right hand to your side and followed Reid as he made his way through a group of teenage girls. You saw them gawking a little at Reid’s appearance.

     He was wearing his typical clothes: dark trousers, white button-down shirt and a green sweater vest. Even though he had forgone the tie and the top button of his shirt was open, he still looked ready to enter the FBI building if you needed to. He was finishing his coffee when you caught up to him.

     ‘You either interrupted me because people were looking at me funny or because those preadolescent girls were making you nervous,’ you told him flatly, to which he choked a little on his drink.

     ‘What? What are you talking about?’ he seemed really confused.

     ‘Come on, Reid! You’re gonna tell me you didn’t notice those girls back there gawking at you?’

     ‘No, girls don’t... _gawk_ at me.’

     ‘What are _you_ talking about?’ it was your turn to be confused.

     ‘I’ve seen people gawking at Morgan, JJ, Lewis, Garcia, _you,_ even at Hotch sometimes. I haven’t seen many looking at Rossi in that way lately, but I’m pretty sure he’s still sex-’

 _‘Whoa!_ I seriously don’t want to hear about Rossi’s sex life. He’s cool, like an uncle, so please, refrain from talking about that,’ you had closed your eyes momentarily as you kept walking, and Reid felt the need to put his hand lightly behind your back so that you wouldn’t crash against anything or anyone. You opened your eyes the moment you felt the pressure of his palm against your lower back.

     ‘Sorry,’ he apologised quickly and removed it. You had to suppress the shiver you felt at the loss of his body heat. ‘I promise not to talk about Rossi’s sex life, or anyone else’s for that matter, unless it’s relevant to catch an UnSub.’

     ‘Thank you very much,’ you said through a laugh. ‘Now, going back to the topic at hand, why have you convinced yourself people don’t stare after you?’

     ‘Oh, they stare, but not in the _I-can’t-believe-he’s-so-attractive_ kind of way you say they were,’ he avoided your eyes as he spoke.

     ‘Reid, from a young woman to her profiler colleague, please, open your eyes!’ he just kept walking. ‘Come on, you can’t be as blind so as to believe you’re not attractive. Also, from having gawked at older guys before at university, let me assure you, they were almost at the point of drooling right there in the middle of the pavement.’

     ‘Say whatever you want, I still don’t see it,’ he muttered, unconvinced.

     ‘Fine, be stubborn! But if I see it happen again, I’ll point it out to you until you believe it,’ you emphasised the point by pushing your index finger against his chest for a second before continuing your path.

     Reid stayed behind for a moment longer and then was next to you in an instant before you could even know he wasn’t there. He was trying to regain control over his heart but, whenever you were near him, touched him in some way or even directed your eyes at him, his body decided to ignore anything his brain told it to do. This whole outing wasn’t about the books _at all_ –that had only been his excuse to get you to tag along with him. He had his suspicions, but all of signs were there: the stares, the involuntary smiles, the sweaty palms, the irregular heartbeat, _everything_. He first thought this could turn into a problem when he recognised the feeling of wanting to protect you in whichever situation you were in, even if it was just Morgan having fun at your expense.

     He thought he only had a crush on you but, he knew it wasn’t just that. He was falling for you and he had no control over it. Yet, unlike last time, he wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to you. He was not going to act on his feelings and put you in danger like he had done with Maeve. So today was all about that: trying to get his feelings and actions under control before having to face the team in an environment outside of work. He thought no one had noticed, but they _were_ profilers. He needed to get his behaviour in check and to have as few reactions towards you as possible without appearing rude all of a sudden. His mind was racing already, and it wasn’t even noon yet. He also hadn’t noticed that you two were already a block away from the second bookstore and that he had grown silent.

     ‘...I mean, why would Dr Blake say that if- Reid? Are you there, love?’ you put your hand on his left upper arm, and he immediately looked down at your hand. You removed it quickly, fearing you had crossed a boundary. You had thought you two were passed those first awkward stages in your friendship.

     ‘Hm? Yes, I’m here,’ his voice was kind of squeaky, so he cleared his throat. He couldn’t handle it when you called him “love”, even if he had heard you calling Garcia and Savannah that as well, the blush that appeared whenever you said it was hard to cover up. He much preferred “doc”, since it didn’t elicit such a reaction from him. ‘Sorry, got lost in my own brain.’

     ‘It’s alright, but _at least warn me next time,_ _okay?’_ you winked at him as you crossed the final intersection. You held the door of the store open and waited for him to step in behind you, missing his blush completely as he lowered his head and allowed some hair to fall on his face and cover his cheeks.

 

* * *

     The rest of the day went on in the same way: you walked about town, getting distracted by people, books and different shop windows. You joked a lot and kept listening to him with rapt attention, but kept missing the moments when he would get slightly flustered as your hand accidentally brushed up against his or as you inched closer to him in the street without realising. After a lot of browsing, you ended up with three new books each, but Reid had to call the owner of the first establishment you visited since you two were unable to find the books he wanted.

     Once you returned to your guys’ building, you went to your respective flats to shower and get ready to go to Rossi’s place. However, due to your getting up late, you had had no time to plan your outfit, which meant you only had half an hour to do your hair, make-up and get dressed before you had to leave. You decided to wear your hair loose and managed to style it somewhat decently, and then you quickly moved on to make-up. You usually didn’t go for anything too crazy, but you wanted to put in a little more effort than how you did it to go to work at the very least.

     It was time to pick an outfit now. The night before, you had spent some time going through your clothes before retiring to bed. The dresses you had worn for the galas and events organised by the embassy were either too childish-looking or just too over the top for a simple family dinner, as Rossi had called it. Since you were running out of time, you finally decided on a purple, pencil skirt [dress](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/post/146557776681/wutb-outfits-chapter-17) that came down to your knees. You had bought it out of impulse one afternoon after a particularly tiring mission in you previous unit. It was tight-fitted, but comfortable enough to drive in, and the neckline was similar to a Queen Anne cut, although the straps were not as thick. After a few twirls in front of the mirror your mum insisted you needed to have behind your bedroom door, you smiled at your reflection.

     You paired the dress with some black flats and a matching black clutch. You were closing it, after having put your cell phone and car keys in it, when you heard a soft knock on your door.

     ‘Grey-Hart? It’s me,’ Reid announced himself.

     ‘Come in! I just have to grab a few things!’ you called from your bedroom door as you rushed to get your watch and earrings on. They were simple, but you always preferred that to something too extravagant.

     You finally re-entered the living room as you tried to put on your necklace without ruining your hair too much and found Reid standing awkwardly near the door. He was dressed smartly, as usual, but the clothes he was wearing were much more casual than the ones you had seen him in just a few hours ago. He was wearing black dress trousers, a somewhat fitted, light blue shirt and a black blazer along with brown shoes. He looked... good, _real_ good. He had even tried to tame his hair a bit, it seemed.

     ‘Long time no see, huh?’ you smiled at him as you continued to struggle with the piece of jewellery in your hands, so you didn’t notice his jaw had become a little unhinged as he took in your attire.

     He was gaping, he knew it; but you were distracted, and that gave him a few more seconds to admire the way the dress hugged your form _oh-so-perfectly_ in his eyes. He was so entranced, he didn’t even realise you had stopped and had turned fully around to face him.

     ‘Oh, no,’ you said, and he connected his eyes with yours. His cheeks turned a light shade of red at being caught staring, but he still held your gaze. ‘The dress is too much, isn’t it? I knew I would go overboard. Give me a second and I’ll get changed.’

     You turned around once more, leaving the necklace forgotten on top of your dining table, next to the clutch, and were about to walk back into your bedroom when you felt Reid’s fingers enclose around your wrist.

     ‘No, no,’ he said as you turned around. You saw him slowly release your wrist and grab the necklace instead. ‘I’m sorry I was staring. It’s just that... you look,’ he cleared his throat after his voice broke a little in that last word, ‘you look... _beautiful,_ Grey-Hart.’

     He purposefully looked down to examine the leaf pendant made up of very tiny branches that was hanging from the delicate chain still in his hand in order to prevent you from seeing the intensity in his eyes as he paid you the compliment.

     ‘Thank you...,’ you felt your stomach make that flip again. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you took advantage of the opportunity to return the praise, ‘you don’t look half bad yourself, doc.’

     ‘Thanks. Although... never mind,’ he finally looked up, and you realised you had moved closer to him. He wanted to tell you so many things! But you deserved to be told all of those after a candle-lit dinner, after walking around hand in hand, after being _kiss-_ He cleared his throat again to get rid of those thoughts and lifted the necklace in front of your face. ‘May I?’

     Instead of replying, you just turned around and moved your hair so that it was resting on the left side of your neck and shoulder. He then proceeded to put the necklace around your throat and closed the clasp with ease. The tiny branches and leaves felt exceedingly cold against your sternum now that you were suddenly _very_ aware of his body heat _and_ of his breath ghosting the back of your neck as he told you that you were all done. You had to suppress a second shiver that day when you felt him stepping backwards to give you enough personal space. You waited for a second before you spoke again, trying to get your thoughts back in order.

     ‘Thanks for that. Shall we?’ you grabbed your clutch and your flat keys, and he just nodded in response.

     The car ride was silent, except for the instrumental songs playing in the background. You weren’t in the mood for anything else, really. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you every once in a while, like the day before after saying goodbye to Penelope in the parking lot; so, once more, you waited until he was ready to speak.

     ‘That’s... um, that’s an interesting pendant,’ he pointed out after about five minutes of indecisiveness.

     ‘Yeah,’ you smiled fondly at the memory of when you got it. ‘It was my parents’ graduation present when I finished secondary school. True to his character, my father even included a quote on the inside of the box. I still have it on top of the dresser in my room.’

     ‘What was the quote?’ he asked softly, knowing that you were still vulnerable whenever you mentioned your father.

     ‘Actually, my bad, it was the whole poem. It read: _“Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, the holy tree is growing there; from joy the holy branches start, and all the trembling flowers they bear. The changing colours of its fruit have dowered the stars with merry light; the surety of its hidden root has planted quiet in the night; the shaking of its leafy head has given the waves their melody, and made my lips and music wed, murmuring a wizard song for thee. There the Loves a circle go, the flaming circle of our days, gyring, spiring to and fro in those great ignorant leafy ways; remembering all that shaken hair and how the wingèd sandals dart, thine eyes grow full of tender care: Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.”_ It goes on, but I don’t want to bore you. It’s by-’

     ‘William Butler Yeats,’ he provided and continued reciting the poem you had memorised such a long time ago: _‘“Gaze no more in the bitter glass the demons, with their subtle guile, lift up before us when they pass, or only gaze a little while; for there a fatal image grows that the stormy night receives, roots half hidden under snows, broken boughs and blackened leaves. For all things turn to barrenness in the dim glass the demons hold, the glass of outer weariness, made when God slept in times of old. There, through the broken branches, go the ravens of unresting thought; flying, crying, to and fro, cruel claw and hungry throat, or else they stand and sniff the wind, and shake their ragged wings; alas! Thy tender eyes grow all unkind: gaze no more in the bitter glass.”’_

     ‘I should’ve seen that coming,’ you laughed lightly, as you kept your eyes focused on the road ahead.

     ‘I... don’t want to pry or force you to share something you don’t want to but-’

     ‘Why would a father give that kind of poem to his sixteen-year-old daughter?’ you guessed.

     ‘Yes. But again, if you don’t feel like sharing that-’

     ‘I don’t mind, Reid,’ you smiled sadly for a second. ‘Remember that yesterday I told you about that little incident with some of the women at one of the embassy’s parties and how I was pretty much humiliated in front of the other guests? Well, they didn't just criticise the dress… they also called me _quite_ a few things about both my physical appearance and my academic achievements. Apparently, they thought I was a pretentious child, trying to get into Cambridge and was biting more than I could chew. And, even though I was one of the top students, i-it still affected me in many ways. I had just turned sixteen and the party was held right before classes started again after the winter holidays.’

     ‘It started affecting your schoolwork,’ he reasoned.

     ‘Barely, but it _was_ there. And my parents and I knew that I needed good grades to get a scholarship, so they kept talking to me and told me repeatedly that I needed to think positively about my own body, and whatnot. My grades went back to normal after the first talk they had with me, but my thoughts were still plagued by that horrendous moment at the party.’

     ‘I know what you mean. Although my bullies were teenagers, not grown-ups.’

     ‘Yeah, well, teenagers left me alone most of the time, since they thought I was pretty much a weirdo for skipping a few years and for being a proud nerd. You should’ve seen my locker: an altar to all things geeky,’ one side of your mouth turned up slightly.

     ‘If the shelves at your flat are anything to go by, I can imagine what it could’ve been as a teen,’ he smirked at you.

     ‘Right. Multiply that by ten and you’ll get more or less what it was in such a small, confined space.’

     ‘Now that you mention that, I’ve been meaning to ask you... What are your thoughts on Peter Capaldi’s portrayal of the Doctor?’ he wanted to distract you but, he was as serious as when he was discussing a case.

     ‘Well, I have a few thoughts, though I haven’t watched the last season. Here’s what I think...,’ and like that, you continued talking all the way to Rossi’s about your beloved Doctor, his companions, made-up scenarios where he could just pop into your lives and if you would go with him, should he make the offer.

     You were thankful for the change of topic, since you disliked remembering those few dark thoughts you used to have as a teenager. Kids can be mean, but adults are much, much worse. Those comments followed you all the way to Georgetown, where only Dr Blake helped you get out of the little shell you had built around yourself. However, it was the team you saw when JJ opened the door to Rossi’s house that got you thinking that _they_ were the ones destroying all the walls now. And, as you entered the kitchen and felt Reid’s hand against your lower back again to urge you to move forwards until you were standing in front of the big island in the middle of the room, you realised you were more than happy with helping them tear those walls down. You were sure they would help you throw the debris away, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny announcement: There's not going to be a new chapter next week, or the next couple of weeks for that matter. Everything, from chapter 1 to 16 (and half of this one), was written during my summer holidays and the beginning of classes (January to April), and I only managed to finish chapter 17 during this first semester of classes. It took me about two months to write half a chapter. Chapter 18 is underway (about a thousand words in), but it needs a loooot of work. And in these next two weeks, I'm sitting for an international Japanese exam and I also have a final at university.
> 
> Don't worry; I won't leave you guys hanging for too long, but for the chapters to be somewhat decent, I need time to actually write them. Once again, I have everything planned; I just need to have time.
> 
> I apologise and hope that you stick around during this mini hiatus!
> 
> Comments and feedback are welcomed! :)


	18. La mia famiglia

_“Serene and silent sky / Rays of moon are dancing with the tide / A perfect sight, a world divine.”_

― “My Selene”, by Sonata Arctica

* * *

_At Rossi’s_ (Saturday, 7 pm)

     There was quite a lot of noise, as well as some soft jazzy music playing in the background. The house, or should you say _mansion_ , was absolutely gorgeous. Grand entrance, tasteful decorations, wood everywhere... it was all very Rossi. The man himself turned around when you reached the island, still being guided by Reid’s hand, and before you had a chance to greet the rest, he dropped the cloth with which he was drying his hands and came around to welcome you properly into his home.

 _‘Buona sera, amicos!’_ he said to Reid and you, before kissing both of your cheeks and taking a good look at your dress. _‘Benvenuta! Signorina... si guarda bellissima!’_

 _‘Grazie, signore!’_ you smiled kindly and then complimented his house. _‘La tua casa è veramente bella.’_

 _‘Grazie mille, bella, è a tua disposizione,’_ he replied, laughing slightly, after a second of mild surprise. ‘Seriously, kid, how many languages do you speak?!’

     ‘I can only speak English and Spanish, I swear!’ you laughed as well, along with the rest of the team. ‘I just like knowing basic phrases in others, too. You never know when you may need them.’

     ‘You’re incredible, doll, just incredible,’ Penny came to hug you and then made you sit next to her.

     You greeted the rest of the team and chatted with JJ, Lewis and Hotch about life in general, while Reid helped Rossi pour drinks for everyone and Morgan handed them out. They were all waiting for you two to start and, since you were actually the last ones to arrive, they were _really_ craving a drink. They were drinking some expensive wine from Rossi’s personal collection, except for you, of course. Rossi gave you a disapproving look and pretended to be offended that you were not enjoying his wine as the rest, but you knew he respected your choice because he then handed you a glass of water and added one of his typical winks for good measure.

     The food was amazing, and the company was wonderful, which made the night a great one overall. If a year ago, someone would have told you that you’d be having fun on a Saturday night with the people you saw almost every single day at work, you’d have laughed. And yet, there you were: listening to the never-ending stories of them in the field, cracking jokes about people you hadn’t even heard of. You were having so much fun, you didn’t realise that Morgan had slipped into the stool on your right after Penelope got up to go to the bathroom.

     ‘So, how come you and Pretty Boy arrived last, Grey-Hart?’ he asked you, hiding his smirk behind his glass of wine.

     ‘W-what?’ you said and cleared you throat before taking a sip of your own glass. ‘I was having issues choosing an outfit.’

     ‘Relax, baby girl, I’m just teasing you,’ he told you and bumped your shoulder with his.

     ‘Excuse me!’ Penelope said once she came back and took a seat on your left. ‘She _just_ arrived! She cannot be your baby girl as well!’

     ‘Whoa! You know you’re my one and only baby girl, Garcia. No need to worry,’ he grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it for a little too long, as she looked at him as if she were ready to melt right then and there.

     You _really_ didn’t want to be in the middle of that weird flirting they always did, so you excused yourself and tried to find your way to the bathroom. You found it without a problem but then got kind of lost on your way back. So much so, that you found yourself in Rossi’s library and couldn’t help but browse the titles he had in there. You had just put your hand on the spine of one, when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You jumped slightly and turned around to find the owner of the house looking back at you.

     ‘Rossi, I’m so sorry! I couldn’t remember how to get back to the main kitchen area and then I saw your books and I couldn’t resist the urge to take a look, you know? And-’ he raised a hand to stop you, and you shut your mouth, expecting him to tell you off.

     ‘It’s okay, kiddo. Hotch pointed out to me that you had been gone for a while and, after checking the bathroom, I realised that there was only one room that you could’ve been in.’

     ‘Oh,’ you felt yourself blush a little and let your gaze follow the rows of books that covered the entire left wall. ‘You have an amazing collection, by the way.’

     ‘Thank you. It’s taken me years to build it. Although,’ he said as he put a hand on your back in between your shoulders and directed you to the far end of the room, _‘these_ are my favourites.’

     You laughed a little when you saw that they were actually his books.

     ‘You know, I must’ve easily read your books at least three or four times... _each_.’

     ‘Well, in that case, I could always give you my autograph. I keep a stack of pictures in one of my drawers for these kinds of moments,’ he joked.

     ‘You sound just like Gilderoy Lockhart,’ your smile grew as he looked at you confused.

     ‘Who’s that? Don’t tell me it’s one of those vampire guys you and Lewis were talking about back in the jet.’

     ‘No, it’s a character from the _Harry Potter_ series,’ Reid said from the door of the library. He had his hands in his pockets and had been looking at the exchange with a small smile on his face the whole time.

     ‘Ah, so you _have_ read some of the more popular literature,’ you poked his chest again once he reached you, like you had done earlier on in the day. This time, however, he managed to mask his reaction to your touch, and both you and Rossi were completely unaware of his accelerated heartbeat.

     ‘No, actually I listened to some of the audio books narrated by Stephen Fry. Garcia gave me the CDs as a Christmas present once.’

     ‘Those are wonderful! His voice and accent are _perfect_ for that kind of story. Where did you-’

     ‘Sorry to interrupt the nerd fest, but we should get back,’ Rossi motioned for you two to get out of his library with a smile and you came back, all three of you chatting about your favourite _Fry and Laurie_ sketches.

     The fun continued on outside under the stars. You were all sitting down at a round table in the middle of Rossi’s massive garden, chatting away as the music could still be heard from inside the house. Lewis was finishing her retelling of one of her latest interviews in the local prison, when Hotch interrupted you with a question.

     ‘Sorry, but I’ve been meaning to ask Grey-Hart about this since it happened,’ you gave him a quizzical look, curious as to what your boss wanted to ask you. ‘When you shot Powell in that small shed, where were you aiming?’

     You were surprised, and even more so when you saw Reid, who was sitting next to you, open his mouth at Hotch’s question.

     ‘I was aiming for his right shoulder... where I shot him,’ you said, not really sure why he was asking you that.

     ‘Thank you, that’s all I needed to know,’ he smiled a little and continued his talk with Morgan, who was laughing at Reid’s expression.

     ‘Um...,’ you and Lewis said at the same time as you looked at each other.

     ‘Reid,’ she addressed him, ‘do you know what that was about?’

     ‘Yes,’ he sighed; he really wasn’t planning on sharing that story with you just yet. He wanted all of his colleagues to trust his abilities in the field.

     By the time he finished, you were really trying to contain your laughter until Lewis cracked, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

     ‘I’m so sorry, Reid!’ you said after you calmed down.

     ‘It’s okay, I’m used to it,’ he said with a small smile.

     Lewis patted him on the shoulder as she chuckled still and got up to get herself another glass of wine, but you stopped laughing immediately.

     ‘Is it because you’re the youngest?’ you asked him directly.

     ‘What is?’

     ‘The teasing,’ you lowered your voice slightly, so that only he could hear you amongst the rest.

     ‘Yeah,’ he grabbed his glass of wine and swirled the dark liquid around before taking a sip. ‘I know they mean no harm, but I-I... it doesn’t matter.’

     ‘Hey, you’re an amazing agent, Reid. Don’t let those jokes get to you. Even if they come from the people you love, it can still hurt and scar you.’

     ‘I know,’ he looked up and he couldn’t help but smile at you. ‘Thank you, Grey-Hart.’

     ‘Don’t mention it, doc. Also, they need to find a new reason to tease you since I'm the youngest member now,’ you replied, bumping your shoulder against his like Morgan had done before with you.

     Little did you know that, when Lewis came back to resume your previous conversation, Morgan and Garcia exchanged a look from across the table. Both of them had noticed the slightly more private nature of your guys’ conversation but, more importantly, the sincerity and adoration in Reid’s eyes when he smiled confirmed Morgan’s theory –and Garcia’s hopeful expectations– that the genius was indeed smitten by you. The only thing left was to know where _you_ stood.

 

* * *

     The month following your first family dinner flew by due to the fact that the team had to leave for cases around the country in three different occasions... one more draining than the last. The first case had been the longest yet, having lasted a whole week before the UnSub decided to end everything by killing the victim and himself afterwards. The other two were “simple” enough, lasting three and four days, respectively. However, they were so close in time that you were exhausted by the time August arrived.

     Since you had used up all of your available leave time at the beginning of the year, you were in no position to take any more days off, even though Hotch said you could. You refused his offer because you wanted to have as many days as you could for when you visited your family at the end of the year for the winter holidays, your birthday and to visit your dad’s grave. You were so far gone in your own mind, thinking about the possibilities and how many days you would need, you didn’t notice that the lift had arrived and that Reid was once again urging you to move forwards by putting his hand on your lower back.

     You realised then, as you apologised for being distracted and pushed the button to go down to the parking lot, that he had turned that little gesture into a bit of a habit. You smiled to yourself as you unlocked your car and got in, and as Reid continued to talk about a documentary he had seen about space the previous night. Whenever he got excited about certain topics, he would always start speaking incredibly fast... so fast it was hard to discern what he was saying. But, you couldn’t find it in your heart to ask him to repeat himself and were content with pretending to understand.

     ‘You got lost in the middle, didn't you?’ he asked you once you got out of the car. He must’ve noticed you got distracted several times during his speech.

     ‘Guilty,’ you confessed as you locked the door and moved to walk next to him through the parking lot.

     ‘You should’ve said something! What is the last thing you remember me saying?’

     ‘Something about the properties of black holes, maybe? No... Oh, I know! It was when you were talking about NASA’s _New Horizons_ mission. I understood everything just fine, until you started flying through the information about Pluto’s moons... and well, I didn’t feel like interrupting you.’

     ‘You endured _twenty minutes_ of me going on and on about Charon, Styx, Nix, Kerberos and Hydra because you didn’t want to interrupt me?’ he was shocked.

     ‘What can I say? You seemed so into it,’ you shrugged as you made your way up the stairs. You turned around and looked down once you saw he wasn’t next to you. ‘You coming, doc?’

 _‘Weshouldhavedinner,’_ he blurted out all in one go. You heard him, though, and raised an eyebrow as he started climbing the stairs. He cleared his throat when you two started moving silently up. ‘Sorry, what I _meant_ was that we should have dinner and maybe watch a movie of your choosing, since, you know, I bored you in the car?’

     ‘Oh, I didn’t quite catch that,’ you lied. ‘Sure, I’d like that. Another teen movie is in order I think.’

     ‘Don’t tell me you have more of those vampire ones!’ he was regretting his decision.

     ‘Oh, my _poor_ genius! There are four more movies from that one saga _alone,_ love!’ you were laughing at his expression. ‘No need to worry, I was thinking of something a bit more spacey... _Firefly,_ maybe? Or _Guardians of the Galaxy?’_

     ‘The second one,’ you were opening the door to your flat then and he just walked in behind you and dropped his messenger bag on your couch. For some reason, you absolutely loved seeing him so relaxed in your flat.

     You had had a few take-out and movie nights already after the whole Twilight fiasco, as he kept referring to it. Although, you had both sworn not to tell Penelope about it... she would  _not_ have forgiven either of you. Besides, they were usually spontaneous decisions you two made while on your way home and not something that you planned. At least that’s how you justified lying to one of your best friends.

     You went into your room and changed out of your work clothes as Reid settled in your living room. You put on a large hoodie and some leggings along with your slippers. You didn’t need to be fancy in your own flat, and anyway, it was just Reid. He had seen you in worse fashion choices already.

     ‘Chinese?’ he asked you the moment you entered the living room.

     ‘Sure, do you know of any good places?’

     ‘Yes, I’ll make the call. Anything in particular you would like or not like?’ he was dialling the number as you thought about it.

     ‘Nah, just order more of your usual. I’m starving so I’ll eat whatever, really.’

     By the time, the food arrived, Reid had re-explained everything you had missed about the documentary. He proceeded to organise the many boxes of food in your coffee table as you pressed "play" on your remote control and sauntered into the kitchen to get the drinks, cups, forks and plates that you needed. You had already watched the movie when it first came out so you started singing and dancing along with [Star-Lord](https://youtu.be/JNlnQwHWSYw?t=1m56s) as he made his way through the planet he was in. You even twirled around and used a fork for a mic.

 _'"Come and get your love!"_ Damn, that's one of the best opening scenes I've seen in a while,' you exclaimed as you finally sat down and put everything down on the table.

     You served enough food on your plate to last you for the entire movie and settled down against the cushions. Thanks to the wonderful and distracting smells coming from the different boxes, you once more completely missed Reid's adoring looks while you sang. He shook his head and decided to just enjoy your company and interesting commentary about the making of the movie. He loved seeing you this comfortable with him _and_ learning new things ─and the fact that it was you lecturing for a change just made his evening that much better.

 

* * *

     After that nice dinner with Reid, you realised that you gained yet another stone since the last time you had weighed yourself. So, against Penelope’s reassurances that you looked fine and Reid’s warnings that you may regret your decision, you started training with Morgan when he came back from his holidays around mid-August.

     You had to admit that the beginning was rough, to say the least. You were so out of shape that running just a few blocks made you need to take a break. Despite the warnings, Morgan actually took it easy on you and, by the end of September, you were starting to see the results of your efforts. You were slightly slimmer and managed to run alongside him without suffering as much. You could've been fitter but you were not going to deprive yourself of anything in terms of food. Your metabolism wasn't _that_ bad; you just needed to move your arse more.

     Morgan's kindness originated from Savannah's threats to not torture you, since you were starting out after a long time of inactivity, but also from his desire to truly help you out... but he would be lying if he said he didn't want to bond with you to eventually find out if you were indeed interested in the genius. Even though he wanted to know, especially because both Penelope and Savannah pestered him with questions after each and every training session, he was unsure as to how to bring the subject up.

     But he didn't have to wait all that long to know because, when you guys arrived at his house still sweaty from your run to find a small get-together of the team plus their loved ones that Garcia had organised in a matter of minutes, you were super embarrassed by your state and hid behind his body to shield you from everyone.

     'For the record, I'm not trying to be inappropriate here, I just don't really want, uh, the whole team to see me like this,' you mumbled as he apologised on both of your parts and started moving upstairs to take a shower.

     You were thankful for the change of clothes you always packed and had with you, in case you needed to run to the office mid-workout.

     'Hey, (Y/n),' came Penelope's voice from downstairs as you reached the landing. 'You look _booty-ful_ in those yoga pants, by the way!'

     You could see she was trying not to laugh at her own pun and you were about to reply with a poor attempt at a witty come-back when you saw Reid standing near the archway that connected the entrance to the living room. He was looking down and biting his lower lip. He had heard Penny. _Oh dear!_ Your face went beet red! You just turned around as Penelope followed your gaze and noticed Reid too and started laughing hysterically at his embarrassed expression. He retraced his steps and went into the kitchen to help Savannah out and forget the way your... _body_ had looked climbing up the stairs as fast as your feet could take you.

     Of course, what neither of you saw was Morgan winking and nodding approvingly at Penelope. Even if he wasn't sure about your feelings towards Reid just yet, he knew there was _something_ brewing under the surface and he definitely wanted to help dig it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I’m so sorry for the long wait! The end of the semester took a huge toll on me, and I really didn’t feel like writing. I’m back for sure but I cannot promise you that I’ll be able to upload next week. I’ve already drafted the next three to four chapters but because I want to experiment on the way I’m going to present the case, I need to write everything before I continue uploading. It’ll make sense when you read it, and, hopefully, the wait will be worth it.
> 
> I know this chapter was more on the short side, but I always planned it to be like that. Just some good ol’ fun with the team. The scene I make a reference to when Hotch asks about the Reader’s aim is from S01E06 “LDSK” and the whole “I was aiming for his leg” moment.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed it! If you want to see what I’m up to, I encourage you to check out my tumblr, since I always post whenever I’m writing or where I am with each story/prompt. My username there is madamredwrites :) I'll shut up now. Have a nice week everyone!


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